Chapter 3 - THE BATTLE OF THE ESTATE
The serene stone courtyard devolved into pure, unadulterated madness within fractions of a second.
High-society guests screamed in terror, knocking over velvet chairs and trampling floral arrangements as automatic gunfire tore through the air. Marble urns shattered into powder, showering the lawn with dirt and stone splinters. The air turned thick with the acrid scent of burnt cordite and gasoline.
“Protect the Don! Return fire!” Marco bellowed over his tactical headset, pulling his secondary firearm and firing a rapid burst through the front windshield of the lead armored SUV.
My immediate instinct was not to secure my empire, save the estate, or deal with the traitors.
It was to shield the three-year-old child who had saved my life.
I threw my broad body across the flagstone path, wrapping my arms around Emma and pulling her beneath me just as a volley of heavy rounds chewed into the stone pavement where she had been standing seconds earlier. Concrete dust and stone chips showered my back as I pressed her tiny frame against my chest, feeling her little heart pounding wildly against my ribs like a trapped bird.
“I’ve got you, Emma! Hold onto me!” I roared over the deafening thunder of continuous automatic fire.
Across the terrace, Sophia shrieked in absolute agony, trying to break away from the service doors and run out into the open line of fire to reach her daughter. Marco reacted instantly, grabbing Sophia by the waist and dragging her back behind the foot-thick masonry of the mansion doorway for cover.
“Get the civilians inside the lower service halls!” Marco yelled to his tactical team as they formed a defensive firing line.
I scooped Emma securely into my left arm, using my broad torso as an impenetrable shield. With my right hand, I drew my custom black semi-automatic pistol from beneath my tuxedo jacket. I leaned out from behind a granite support pillar and fired three precise, rapid shots through the drifting smoke, dropping an advancing mercenary who was trying to push up the terrace steps toward our position.
Across the chaotic courtyard, Isabella and her father, Eduardo, were already sprinting under the heavy suppressive fire of their own guards toward a secondary armored SUV that had maneuvered around the side chapel.
“Julian! Get in the vehicle now, you idiot!” Eduardo barked over his shoulder as his men laid down cover fire.
Julian, weeping on his hands and knees on the flagstones, scrambled frantically toward Eduardo’s retreating SUV like a dog begging for scraps.
“Marco!” I shouted over the sound of shattering glass and echoing gunfire, keeping my body turned to protect Emma. “Take Sophia and my mother down into the fortified vault beneath the library! Engage the steel blast doors immediately!”
“What about you, Alessandro?” Marco called back, dropping an empty magazine and slapping a fresh one into his rifle.
“I’m ending this family disease today!” I yelled back.
Carrying Emma safely against my chest, I ran through the shattered glass of the mansion’s side entrance, moving swiftly through the service corridor. High-caliber rounds whistled through the high stained-glass windows above us, raining colored shards onto the hardwood floor.
Emma kept her face buried tightly into the crook of my neck, her small arms holding onto my collar with remarkable, unspoken trust. She didn't scream or cry; she simply held on, trusting me entirely to keep the world from hurting her.
“You’re safe, little bird. I’ve got you,” I whispered, ducking through the heavy oak door that led directly down to the basement vault.
Sophia was waiting inside the reinforced corridor below, tears washing clean streaks through the soot on her face as Marco pushed the heavy blast door open. The moment she saw me walk down the stairs with Emma completely unharmed, she collapsed to her knees, reaching out her arms.
“Emma! Oh God, my baby!” Sophia sobbed, pulling the child into a fierce, desperate embrace.
Emma hugged her mother’s neck tightly. “Mommy, the big mister stopped the bad lady from hurting us.”
Sophia looked up at me, her eyes brimming with two years of pent-up pain, terror, and overwhelming gratitude. “Alessandro... I’m so sorry... they threatened to kill my baby... they told me Eduardo owned the police departments in Chicago and New York...”
“You never have to apologize for protecting your daughter, Sophia,” I said, my tone absolute as I reloaded a fresh magazine into my pistol. “You and Emma are under my personal protection now. No one in this city will ever lay a finger on either of you again.”
I turned my attention to Marco. “Lock this vault door from the inside. Do not open it for anyone until I give the voice code.”
“Alessandro,” Marco said, pulling a tactical assault rifle from the wall armory inside the security room. “Eduardo’s team is heading toward the North Helipad on the sea cliff. If their private chopper gets airborne, they’ll cross state lines before federal law enforcement can scramble interceptors.”
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“They aren't reaching that helicopter,” I said, my voice dropping into a register of icy finality.
I racked the slide of my weapon, turned on my heel, and bounded back up the stairs toward the north wing of the estate.
