Chapter 3 - The Footsteps in the Rain
The third-floor guest suite was a luxurious haven of cream silk, dark mahogany, and tall windows overlooking the stormy harbor. The rain beat harder against the glass, driven by the rising Atlantic wind.
Alina sat on the edge of the large Four-poster bed, her hands wrapped tightly around a warm mug of tea Mrs. Bianchi had brought up under Marco's supervision. Lucia sat beside her, swinging her white shoes peacefully as she colored in a small sketchbook with a yellow crayon.
"Are you scared, Mommy?" Lucia asked softly, looking up with her wide brown eyes.
"I'm just worried about keeping you safe, sweetie," Alina murmured, smoothing down her daughter's pink bow. "Mr. Ferrero is a dangerous man."
"He's not dangerous to us," Lucia stated with absolute conviction. "He has sad eyes. Like the gray ocean."
A knock sounded at the heavy oak door. Two short taps, followed by one long one.
Marco Bellini stepped into the room, his fitted black suit jacket unbuttoned, revealing a shoulder holster. His athletic frame moved with quiet efficiency as he closed the door behind him.
"How is she?" Marco asked, nodding toward Lucia.
"She's fine, Mr. Bellini," Alina replied, standing up respectfully. "Is... is the situation downstairs resolved?"
"The body has been cleared," Marco said flatly. "Boss wants to know if you recognized anyone near the butler's pantry around two o'clock today."
Alina paused, her brow furrowing as she searched her memory. "I was dusting the second-floor gallery between one and two. I saw Mr. Vincent near the linen closet, but... I also saw someone else."
Marco’s eyes narrowed instantly. "Who?"
"One of the junior drivers," Alina whispered, her voice tight. "A young man with a scar on his neck. He was carrying a silver tool case toward the server room."
Marco pulled his radio from his belt, clicking the side button. "Team Two, locate the driver named Julian. Secure him immediately."
A crackle of static came through the speaker, followed by a tense voice: "Lieutenant... Julian's vehicle was just found abandoned near the lower boathouse. The boathouse door is standing open."
Marco’s jaw tightened. "Lock down the harbor line. Nobody leaves the dock."
He turned back to Alina, his expression grim. "Stay inside this room. Keep the door deadbolted."
Before Marco could reach the handle, a sudden, blinding flash of light illuminated the stormy sky outside the window, followed half a second later by the thunderous boom of an explosion echoing from the harbor docks.
The floorboards trembled violently beneath their feet. The glass panes of the suite's tall windows rattled in their frames.
Lucia dropped her yellow crayon, her small hand reaching out to grab her mother's dress.
Dominic Ferrero stepped into the hallway outside the suite, a heavy sidearm drawn in his right hand. His black suit jacket was removed, revealing his broad shoulders and the crisp black shirt beneath. His blue-gray eyes burned with a cold, terrifying fire.
"The boathouse fuel tanks just detonated," Dominic said, his deep voice carrying over the distant sound of blaring estate alarms. "They're cutting our escape routes."
May you like
He looked at Alina and Lucia, then back at Marco. "They aren't trying to flee the estate, Marco. They're surrounding us."
From the dark hallway behind Dominic, a small metallic device bounced along the carpet, coming to a halt directly at Marco's feet. It was a smoke canister, emitting a thick, sweet-smelling white gas that rapidly expanded into the corridor.
