Chapter 10
The bright, natural sunlight pouring through the massive windows suddenly felt less like illumination and more like a spotlight exposing them to the darkness outside. The cinematic perfection of the room shattered completely as the reality of a full-scale assault dawned on the veteran Mafia boss.
Alessandro did not panic. His mind, forged in the fires of gangland warfare, shifted instantly from father to general.
"Lock down the estate," Alessandro commanded Elias, his voice sharp, devoid of its usual slow pauses, ringing with absolute, military authority. "Arm every man in the house. I want heavy artillery at the front doors, the back patio, and the service entrances. No one gets past the marble."
"Yes, Boss!" Elias roared, instantly turning and shouting orders to the bodyguards in the room.
The dining hall erupted into chaotic, disciplined action. Capos kicked their chairs back, drawing heavy, suppressed pistols from their tailored suits. The white American guests who were not initiated members of the syndicate began to panic, diving under the heavy mahogany table for cover.
Alessandro turned immediately to Sophie. The three-year-old girl was sitting in his chair, her hands over her ears, her blue eyes wide with absolute terror at the sudden shouting and the drawing of weapons.
Alessandro scooped her up into his arms, pressing her face securely against his chest, shielding her with his broad, muscular frame.
"Daddy, what's happening?" Sophie cried, her voice muffled against his dress shirt.
"Everything is fine, little bird. We are just going to play a game," Alessandro lied smoothly, his voice returning to a low, soothing, raspy whisper to calm her. "We are going to go to your favorite hiding spot. You have to be very, very quiet."
He looked up, catching the eye of his most lethal, trusted personal bodyguard, a massive man named Silas.
"Silas," Alessandro ordered. "Take her. Get her into the subterranean panic room beneath the wine cellar. Seal the vault. You do not open that door for anyone except me. If you hear a voice that is not mine, you shoot through the steel."
"With my life, Mr. Vitale," Silas swore, holstering his weapon and carefully taking the trembling little girl from Alessandro’s arms.
"I love you, Sophie. I will be right down," Alessandro promised, pressing a fierce kiss to her forehead before Silas rushed her out of the room through a secure, reinforced side door.
Once his daughter was safely out of the line of fire, Alessandro turned back to face the expansive windows. The sound of high-powered, suppressed automatic gunfire suddenly echoed from the front courtyard, a deadly staccato rhythm that signaled the violent arrival of the Rossi family hit squad.
Alessandro reached behind his back, beneath the tailored cut of his dress shirt, and drew a heavy, matte-black customized handgun. He racked the slide with a sharp, metallic clack that sounded incredibly loud in the tense room.
His cold, piercing eyes narrowed into lethal slits. The fair, rosy skin of his face set into a mask of pure, unadulterated wrath. His own aunt had sold him to his greatest enemies, inviting an army of assassins into the sanctuary where his daughter slept.
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"They want to take my throne," Alessandro whispered to himself, a dark, terrifying smile touching the corners of his bearded lips. He raised his weapon, stepping forward to lead his men into the coming bloodbath. "Let them try to take it from my cold, dead hands."
The heavy mahogany doors at the front of the hall splintered inward under a barrage of bullets, and Alessandro charged forward into the chaotic, bright light, ready to bathe his pristine estate in blood. The screen faded to black, the roar of gunfire promising a brutal, unforgettable war.
