Chapter 6 - the shadow at the nursery
Damiano stood up instantly, his towering frame radiating an immediate, lethal authority.
"Where are they, Marco?" Damiano demanded softly, his blue-gray eyes turning into cold stone.
"They bypassed the outer gate cameras using Victor's master clearance code," Marco reported, pulling his high-powered tactical sidearm. "They are advancing through the east garden toward the ground-floor service entrance."
Damiano turned to Elina, grabbing her firmly by her shoulder with his broad, warm hand.
"Stay inside this room, Elina," Damiano commanded in an absolute baritone. "The doors are three-inch reinforced oak with a deadbolt lock. Nobody gets through this door except me or Marco."
Elina pulled Marisol close against her chest, her dark eyes filled with deep worry. "Damiano... please be careful."
Damiano looked at her, a rare, breathtaking smile touching his bearded face beneath his piercing eyes. He reached out, gently brushing his thumb across her soft cheek.
"Nobody touches my family in my house, Elina," Damiano promised softly.
He pulled a sleek black tactical sidearm from his shoulder holster, checked the magazine with effortless speed, and stepped out into the hallway.
The heavy oak doors of the master suite locked shut behind him with a firm, heavy click.
Down in the ground-floor service corridor, darkness was shattered by the sharp click of boots against marble.
Four heavily armed mercenaries in dark tactical gear moved down the hallway, carrying suppressed automatic rifles. At the front of the unit was Falcone—a broad-shouldered, scarred enforcer who had served as Victor Vane’s personal assassin for a decade.
"Find the child and the maid," Falcone whispered into his radio. "Burn the central server room on your way out."
Suddenly, the overhead lights in the service corridor flickered and died, plunging the hallway into total darkness.
"Flank left!" Falcone shouted, raising his night-vision visor.
A shadow moved through the dark like a silent predator.
Damiano stepped out from the alcove near the kitchen, firing three precise, controlled bursts. Two mercenaries collapsed onto the tile floor before they could raise their weapons.
Falcone spun around, firing a wild spray of bullets that shattered the glass cabinets lining the wall.
Damiano rolled behind a concrete pillar, seamlessly reloading his sidearm. He stepped out and fired a single high-caliber round that disarmed Falcone, sending his weapon spinning across the floor.
Before Falcone could draw his backup knife, Damiano closed the distance in two strides, grabbing Falcone by his tactical vest and slamming him violently against the brick wall.
The impact echoed through the corridor like a thunderclap.
Falcone gasped for air, staring into the terrifying, icy blue-gray eyes of the Chicago crime lord.
"Who sent you, Falcone?" Damiano growled, his voice vibrating with unholy rage.
"Sterling..." Falcone wheezed, blood dripping from his lip. "Sir Arthur Sterling in London... he ordered the wipe..."
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Damiano’s eyes narrowed into sharp slits. "The European trust chairman."
Damiano delivered a single, powerful strike that rendered Falcone unconscious, dropping the assassin onto the floor as Marco and six Rossi security guards flooded the corridor, securing the remaining mercenaries.
