Chapter 12 - The Traitor's Face
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A heavy thump echoed from the iron hatch behind them.
Damian immediately raised his weapon, stepping in front of Wren to cover her.
The iron door swung open, and Luca stepped into the tunnel, covered in dust and blood, holding a heavy shotgun. Behind him were six loyal Ricci soldiers.
"Boss!" Luca gasped, letting out a massive breath of relief. "Thank God. The main house is secured. Moretti's shooters are dead or fleeing into the woods."
"What about Moretti himself?" Damian asked coldly.
"He tried to escape through the west gates," Luca said, stepping aside. Two soldiers dragged a bleeding, elderly man in an expensive suit forward, throwing him onto his knees on the damp floor.
Don Moretti looked up, his grey hair matted with blood, his eyes wild with desperation.
"Ricci... please!" Moretti wheezed, clutching his shoulder. "It wasn't just me! I had help! I was invited to break the truce!"
Damian walked slowly over to Moretti, kneeling down so his face was level with the old man's. "Who gave you the security codes, Moretti?"
Moretti's eyes flicked past Damian, looking directly at the maid standing in the shadows behind him.
"Her..." Moretti stammered, pointing a trembling finger at Wren. "No... not her! The man who dropped her earlier! Bellini!"
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Damian's eyes went dangerously still. "Dario?"
"Dario sold you out three days ago!" Moretti confessed frantically. "He wanted Brooklyn! He said if I took you out during the gala, he would take over the Ricci throne and give me the shipping docks!"
