Chapter 6 - The Breach in the Dark
The heavy oak door of the guest suite swung open slowly, creaking on its brass hinges.
Silhouetted against the dim red emergency lights of the hallway stood two men dressed in black tactical gear, holding silenced handguns.
"Clear the room," one of the men whispered in a harsh raspy tone. "Target is on the bed."
They didn't see Veto standing in the shadows beside the high mahogany wardrobe.
Pfft. Pfft.
Two quiet, silenced shots echoed through the room.
The first intruder dropped instantly, his body crashing hard onto the Persian rug. The second intruder spun around in panic, raising his weapon, but Bruno charged through the darkness like a black panther.
The massive mastiff slammed his hundred-and-eighty-pound frame directly into the man's chest, throwing him backward into the hallway wall. The intruder screamed as Bruno’s heavy jaws locked onto his arm, pinning him to the floor.
Veto stepped out of the shadows, his expression stone cold, his firearm raised. He placed his foot firmly on the intruder’s throat, pressing down until the man’s gagging sounds quieted.
"Who sent you?" Veto asked, his voice entirely devoid of emotion.
The man choked, clutching at Veto’s heavy shoe on his throat, his eyes wide with blinding terror. "M-Mancini... Enzo Mancini... Don Carmine ordered it..."
Veto’s eyes narrowed slightly. He looked down at the bleeding, terrified man beneath his boot.
"Thank you," Veto said softly.
He raised his weapon and fired a single non-lethal round into the intruder’s shoulder, knocking him unconscious.
"Bruno, heel," Veto commanded.
The great dog released his grip, stepping back and licking his bloodied jowls before returning to stand guard beside Veto.
From down the hallway, heavy footsteps thundered as Marco—Veto’s chief of security—and eight armed guards in dark suits flooded the corridor, their weapons drawn, eyes wide with panic.
"Boss!" Marco yelled, seeing the two downed intruders. "The basement power grid was sabotaged three minutes ago! We’re locking down the perimeter now!"
"Enzo Mancini bribed someone on the night security detail," Veto said, his voice cut like sharp glass. "Find every man who was on duty at the south gate tonight. Disarm them and lock them in the cellar."
"Right away, Don Veto!" Marco shouted, turning to issue orders to his men.
Veto turned back into the guest suite.
Willow was sitting in the middle of the large bed, her knees pulled up to her chest, her arms wrapped tightly around her stomach. She was shaking violently, her eyes wide with terror as she stared at the doorway.
Veto set his weapon on the bedside table, walked over, and sat beside her on the mattress. He didn't hesitate; he reached out and wrapped his large, powerful arms around her shoulders, pulling her flush against his chest.
"Shh," Veto murmured, resting his chin against her soft hair as she began to sob uncontrollably against his shoulder. "It’s over, Willow. You’re safe. I’ve got you."
"They... they tried to kill me," Willow sobbed, her hands clutching at the cashmere fabric of his vest. "Why would someone want to kill me? I’m just a maid..."
"They weren't trying to kill a maid," Veto whispered, his grip tightening around her protectively. "They were trying to strike at me. Carmine Moretti thought he could break my resolve by destroying what I chose to protect."
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He pulled back slightly, cupping her face in his warm, large hands, forcing her to look into his eyes.
"He was wrong," Veto said, his dark eyes burning with an ancient, lethal fire. "He has just ensured that his syndicate will not survive the week."
