Chapter 11 - The Lion's Wrath
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The heavy steel door of the safe room clicked shut, sealing Elena and Nora in absolute silence.
Outside, Luca Ferraro let the last remnants of his humanity slip away. He was no longer the man who wept over a child’s ruined hands in the laundry room. He was the Boss. The undisputed king of the eastern seaboard. And someone had dared to bring a war to his home.
He moved through the dark hallways of his mansion like a phantom.
He reached the grand foyer just as the massive front doors were blown off their hinges by a breaching charge. Smoke poured into the house, followed closely by half a dozen heavily armed Moretti soldiers.
They expected the house security to be disorganized. They expected an easy sweep.
They did not expect Luca Ferraro waiting in the shadows at the top of the grand staircase, armed with a fully automatic submachine gun he had pulled from the foyer armory.
Luca opened fire.
The devastating barrage tore through the smoke. Three Moretti soldiers fell before they even realized where the shots were coming from. The remaining men scrambled for cover behind the marble pillars, screaming in panic.
“Pin him down!” one of them yelled, firing blindly up the stairs.
Marble chips exploded around Luca, cutting his cheek, but he didn't retreat.
Matteo and a squad of Ferraro loyalists burst through the side parlor doors, flanking the intruders. The crossfire was brutal, short, and absolutely decisive. Within minutes, the foyer was silent, littered with bodies and broken glass.
Matteo kicked the gun away from the last surviving Moretti soldier, who was bleeding heavily on the floor.
Luca walked slowly down the stairs, his shoes crunching on the ruined marble. He stood over the dying man, his eyes devoid of mercy.
“Who sent you?” Luca demanded, his voice a low, terrifying rumble.
“Moretti,” the man coughed, blood spilling from his lips. “He... he said you were distracted. Soft. He bought your estate manager.”
“Where is Dominic Moretti right now?” Luca pressed his boot onto the man’s gunshot wound.
The man screamed in agony. “The harbor! The old shipping warehouse on Pier 4! He’s waiting for the all-clear!”
Luca lifted his boot. He looked at Matteo.
“Secure the perimeter. Double the guard on the east wing safe room,” Luca ordered, his eyes burning with a dark, lethal fire.
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“Where are you going, Boss?” Matteo asked, wiping blood from his own face.
“I am going to Pier 4,” Luca said, racking his weapon. “Moretti thinks I am soft. I am going to show him exactly what kind of monster he woke up.”
