Chapter 7 - The threshold of the shadow
Rosa stared at the cracked door, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Sophia was crying softly against her neck, the sounds of the violent gunfight echoing off the marble floors behind them. Rosa pushed the heavy oak door open and stepped inside, quickly slamming it shut and throwing the internal steel lockdown bolts into place.
The silence inside the room was immediate and suffocating. The soundproofing was absolute.
Rosa turned around, her eyes adjusting to the dim light provided by a single, battery-powered gold sconce on the wall. The room was not a prison cell. It was a breathtakingly beautiful sanctuary, designed to look exactly like a wealthy, rustic Italian villa. There were shelves of classic books, a grand piano, and a massive bed draped in white silk.
Sitting in a velvet armchair near the center of the room was a woman.
She was wearing the same white silk dress from the hidden painting. Her long, dark brunette hair cascaded over her shoulders. She was terrifyingly pale, her soft features carrying the heavy weight of years of isolation and a fractured mind.
It was Elena.
Rosa slowly set Sophia down on the plush rug. Her hands were shaking violently. She was standing face-to-face with the sister she had thought was dead her entire life.
Elena didn't look at Rosa. Her hollow, beautiful eyes were fixed entirely on the little girl in the pink dress. Slowly, Elena leaned forward. A trembling smile broke across her pale face.
"You brought my angel back to me," Elena whispered, her voice fragile and melodic, carrying the exact tone of the midnight lullaby.
Sophia didn't hesitate. She wiped her tears, trotted over to the velvet chair, and climbed directly into Elena’s lap. She wrapped her tiny arms around the woman’s neck. "The bad men are making loud noises outside," Sophia mumbled.
Elena wrapped her arms around her daughter, closing her eyes, a single tear slipping down her cheek. She rocked the child gently.
Rosa took a step forward, her voice breaking. "Elena?"
Elena’s eyes snapped open. She looked at Rosa. The reaction was instantaneous and horrifying. The calm, maternal warmth vanished, replaced by a violent, frantic terror. The poison that had destroyed her mind took over. Elena scrambled backward in the chair, pulling Sophia tight against her chest, her eyes wide with paranoia.
"No! Stay away!" Elena screamed, her voice piercing the quiet room. "You are not real! You are a ghost! They sent a ghost to take my baby!"
"Elena, please, it’s me," Rosa pleaded, falling to her knees, holding her hands out gently. "It’s Rosa. Dante told me everything. I’m your sister."
Elena shook her head frantically, rocking back and forth. "Rosa is dead! The cartel killed her! I couldn't save her! You wear her face to trick me! Dante! Dante!"
The sheer panic in her sister’s voice shattered Rosa’s heart. She realized Dante was right; the shock of seeing her was destroying Elena’s fragile grip on reality.
Before Rosa could try to calm her, a massive, deafening boom shook the reinforced walls of the room. Dust rained down from the ceiling. The cartel had blown the main corridor doors. They were in the east wing.
Heavy, violent pounding hammered against the steel-reinforced oak door.
"Open the door, Falcone!" a muffled, cartel mercenary yelled from the hallway. "We know you're in there with the crazy bitch! We're wiring C4 to the frame!"
Rosa scrambled to her feet. The internal locks would hold against bullets, but not against high-grade explosives. She looked around frantically for a weapon. There was nothing but beautiful, harmless furniture.
The pounding stopped. A chilling silence fell over the hallway.
Then, the sound of a heavy body hitting the floor echoed through the wood. A wet, brutal crunch. Then another.
"Get away from my door."
It was Dante’s voice. It wasn't loud, but the sheer, lethal rage vibrating through the wood made Rosa’s blood run cold. A brutal, intimate fight broke out in the hallway. The sound of fists on bone, a final, choked gasp, and then silence.
"Rosa," Dante’s heavy, exhausted voice came through the thick wood. "Open the door."
Rosa ran to the door, throwing the steel bolts back and pulling it open.
Dante stood in the doorway. He was covered in blood, though none of it seemed to be his. His black shirt was torn, his knuckles split and bleeding. The hallway behind him was littered with unconscious or dead cartel mercenaries. He looked like a demon who had crawled out of hell to protect his family.
He stepped into the room, locking the door behind him. He looked at Rosa, unharmed, and then his eyes fell on Elena and Sophia in the velvet chair.
For a moment, the terrifying mafia boss disappeared entirely. He dropped to his knees in front of the chair, resting his bloody forehead against the armrest, letting out a long, ragged breath. He had secured his world.
But the peace lasted only a second.
A sharp, sophisticated cough echoed from the shadows near the grand piano.
Dante’s head snapped up. Rosa spun around.
May you like
Stepping out from the dark corner of the room, holding a sleek, suppressed pistol aimed directly at Elena’s head, was Don Salieri. The syndicate boss had used the cartel attack as a distraction to slip into the locked room through the hidden ventilation tunnels.
"A beautiful family reunion," Salieri sneered, cocking the pistol. "It’s a shame it has to end here."
