Chapter 9 - The Siege
The siege of the Lake Forest estate was brutal, swift, and terrifying.
Fifteen mercenary shooters, hired by Capo Dominic and backed by rival North Side crews, had breached the outer perimeter gate using an armored delivery truck loaded with explosives.
Gunfire echoed loudly through the stone hallways of the manor. Glass shattered, wood splintered, and the sharp smell of cordite filled the air.
Matteo led Clara down a hidden narrow stone staircase behind the library, escorting her toward the estate’s underground steel vault. Four loyal Rosetti guards fell back with them, firing their submachine guns up the stairs to suppress the advancing mercenaries.
"Clear the lower corridor!" Matteo barked, his gun barking twice as an enemy shooter collapsed at the top of the landing.
Suddenly, a heavy grenade bounced down the stone steps, sparking violently.
"GRENADE!" a guard screamed.
Matteo grabbed Clara by her waist, throwing his massive body over her as he dove behind a heavy steel security door just as the explosion ripped through the stairwell.
BOOM!
Dust, concrete debris, and smoke filled the corridor. Clara coughed, her ears ringing violently, but she was unhurt—Matteo had absorbed the blast impact with his heavy Kevlar vest.
"Mrs. Rosetti... get inside the vault..." Matteo gritted out, coughing up a spot of blood, his arm bleeding from a shrapnel tear.
Clara looked at the vault door. It was three inches of solid reinforced steel, operated by an electronic keypad.
Before she could punch in the code, three mercenaries burst through the settling smoke at the end of the hallway, their assault rifles raised.
"There she is!" one shouted. "Take the woman!"
Clara froze, her spine hitting the cold steel door.
Suddenly, the heavy reinforced door at the far end of the underground corridor was blown off its hinges with a deafening roar.
A dark, terrifying silhouette stepped through the fire and smoke.
Dante Rosetti had arrived.
He didn't look like a businessman in a charcoal suit. He looked like the god of war. Dressed in a dark tactical vest, his face covered in soot and blood, holding a heavy shotgun in his right hand.
"Get away from my wife," Dante growled, his voice a horrifying, demonic rumble.
Before the mercenaries could even turn their weapons, Dante fired.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
The raw power of his assault shotgun tore through the corridor with devastating speed. Within four seconds, all three mercenaries were cut down, their bodies dropping lifelessly onto the concrete floor.
Dante dropped the empty shotgun, pulled his sidearm, and sprinted down the hallway toward Clara.
He reached her in a second, pulling her violently into his arms, checking her face, her hands, her body with frantic, desperate speed.
"Are you hurt? Did they touch you? Are you bleeding?" Dante demanded, his voice cracking with terrifying anxiety.
"I'm fine! I'm fine, Dante!" Clara wept, wrapping her arms around his neck, kissing his blood-stained cheek. "The baby is fine!"
Dante let out a long, shuddering gasp of pure relief, pressing his forehead against hers, holding her so tightly she could feel the thunderous beat of his heart.
"Matteo," Dante called out, looking over her shoulder at his bleeding underboss.
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"I'm alive, Boss," Matteo grunted, smiling through the blood on his face. "She spotted the paper trail. She saved us."
Dante looked back down at Clara, his gray eyes shining with fierce, eternal devotion. "I know."
