Chapter 5 - The Ambush
The peace shattered on a Tuesday.
I was in the pantry when I heard the alarm—a low, rhythmic pulse that signaled an external breach. Within seconds, the mansion went into lockdown. Steel shutters slammed down over the windows. The hum of industrial security systems filled the halls.
I didn't care about the rules. I didn't care about the paycheck. I ran.
I sprinted toward the west wing, my lungs burning, my mind screaming for my daughter. I reached the oak doors to find them locked from the inside.
“Emma!” I screamed, pounding on the heavy wood. “Open the door!”
Inside, I heard the sound of glass shattering and a dull, heavy thud.
Then, the door clicked open.
Alessandro was behind the door, his face masked in shadow, holding a heavy tactical pistol. He wasn't in the wheelchair. He was standing, braced against the doorframe, his legs visibly trembling under the strain.
“Get her,” he roared, shoving a small, panicked Emma into my arms.
Before I could move, a man in a black tactical vest burst around the corner, aiming a silenced rifle at us.
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Alessandro moved with a speed that defied his injury. He lunged, driving his shoulder into the man’s chest, sending them both crashing into the hallway.
“Run, Nora!” he yelled. “To the panic room in the basement!”
