Chapter 6 - The Siege of La Corona
The rain had escalated into a full-blown coastal storm, thunder shaking the foundations of the cliffside estate. Below the grand dining room, in the damp, stone-walled wine cellar, the air was thick with the scent of aged oak and salt water.
Isadora led Gio through the labyrinth of floor-to-ceiling wine racks. Her hand held a heavy iron flashlight, its beam cutting through the gloom. Behind them, Luca and two loyal guards followed with submachine guns held at the ready.
"The passage entrance is behind the cask of 1945 Amarone," Isadora whispered, stopping before a massive wooden barrel set deep into the stone wall. "My father showed me the blueprints when I was a child. He designed this escape route for your family in case of a siege."
"And Marco knew about it because Donati gave him the maps," Gio said, releasing the safety on his weapon. "They will expect us to be defenseless in the dining room above."
Suddenly, the heavy iron door at the end of the tunnel clicked. The sound of wet boots echoing against wet cobblestones vibrated through the narrow corridor.
"Positions," Gio commanded softly.
Luca and the guards melted into the shadows behind the massive concrete pillars supporting the vault. Gio pulled Isadora behind a row of heavy oak racks, placing his body firmly between her and the tunnel entrance.
"If things go wrong," Gio whispered near her ear, his breath warm against the chill air, "the key to the station locker is in my left pocket. Take it and go. The passport inside isn't yours—it's a diplomatic passport under a new name. I had it made for you two years ago."
Isadora looked at him in shock. "You knew who I was two years ago?"
"I recognized your mother's eyes the day you applied for the job," Gio admitted, a faint smile touching his lips despite the imminent danger. "I kept you close where I could protect you, waiting for the right moment to eliminate Marco once and for all. You pouring ice on my suit just accelerated the timeline."
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Before Isadora could process his confession, the shadow of a armed man emerged from the dark mouth of the tunnel, followed by six heavily armed mercenaries dressed in tactical gear.
"Clear the cellar," the lead mercenary ordered in a harsh Neapolitan accent. "Marco wants Giovanni alive, but everyone else is expendable."
