Chapter 5 - Poison in the House
The crack of the suppressed round was lost in the drumming rain, but the impact sent the first guard tumbling backward into the churning reservoir. Before the second man could raise his weapon, Matteo put two rounds through his chest, dropping him across the concrete ledge.
Matteo didn't wait for the platform ladder. He grabbed the hydraulic cable and slid down thirty feet, the friction smoking against his leather gloves. He hit the wet concrete floor with a heavy thud, coming up with his pistol drawn, scanning the shadows of the subterranean chamber. The area was clear for the moment, but the echoing gunfire above signaled that the two snipers on the roof had realized something was wrong.
""Matteo!"" Clara’s breath caught in a sharp, weeping gasp.
He lunged toward the pillar, dropping to his knees before her. His fingers worked frantically at the thick knots binding her wrists to the steel iron. ""I'm here, Clara. I'm here. Don't look at the water.""
""You found me,"" she whispered, her forehead resting against his soaked shoulder as the rough ropes fell away. Her skin was ice-cold, her lips tinged with blue from the damp air, but her pulse was racing like a wild bird against his palms. ""I knew you would know. The ring... she didn't touch your ring.""
""I knew the second I took her hand,"" Matteo said, stripping off his heavy tactical overcoat and wrapping it snugly around her shivering frame. He pressed his lips against her temple, inhaling the faint, lingering scent of her lavender soap beneath the stench of canal mud. ""Why didn't you come to me, Clara? Why did you hide this alone?""
""Because Gabriel had eyes in every room of our house,"" she said, her voice trembling with rage and exhaustion. ""I found his ledger hidden behind the breaker box in the wine vault. He wasn't just planning an assassination; he was planning to frame you for treason against the Commission. If you made a move against him openly, the council would have authorized a total purge of our bloodline. I had to draw his private team out of the city, away from the gala, where you could cut them down without the Commission seeing.""
Matteo placed his hand gently over her abdomen. ""And this? Lily told me what you said to her.""
Clara’s eyes softened, tears finally cutting through the grit on her cheeks. She took his hand, pressing it firmly against her stomach. Her thumb moved instinctively, rubbing the platinum band of his wedding ring twice in that small, familiar rhythm that had anchored him through five years of chaos. ""Six weeks, Matteo. A boy. Our son. I couldn't let them kill you before he ever heard your voice.""
A heavy steel door at the top of the metal staircase blew inward with a deafening boom.
""Duca!"" a voice roared from the upper walkway. It was Marco Marcone, the eldest son of the rival family, flanked by four men in tactical body armor. ""You walked right into the slaughterhouse, you romantic fool! You think Gabriel was the head of the snake? He was just the broker. We bought your ports, we bought your ships, and now we bury your family in the swamp!""
Automatic gunfire rained down from the iron catwalk, chewing through the concrete pillars and kicking up shards of stone around them. Matteo shoved Clara behind the reinforced base of the water turbine, drawing his secondary weapon as the concrete rained down like shrapnel.
""Stay down!"" Matteo shouted over the deafening chatter of assault rifles. ""Keep your head against the iron casing!""
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""Matteo, the flood valve!"" Clara pointed toward a massive red manual wheel secured with a chain thirty feet across the open floor. ""The emergency discharge! It flushes the entire holding chamber into the primary canal. If you turn it, the intake current will collapse the catwalk supports!""
Matteo looked at the iron wheel, then up at the catwalk where five assault rifles were pouring fire into their cover. He had twelve rounds in his sidearm and an empire to protect.
