Chapter 4 - Chaos in the Gardens
Outside, the manicured gardens of Villa Moretti plunged into absolute tactical panic. Floodlights snapped on automatically along the perimeter walls, cutting through the misty night with blinding white beams. Armed guards in tactical gear sprinted across the gravel paths, their rifles raised toward the sprawling maze hedges.
I was standing in the ground-floor nursery suite where Emma had finally fallen asleep, exhausted by the night's terrifying events. The sound of gunfire echoed through the stone walls, shaking the windowpanes and sending a fresh wave of panic through my chest.
"Emma," I whispered, scooping her up gently into my arms. She stirred sleepily, burying her face in my shoulder, clutching the blue rabbit—now securely sewn back together by one of the estate seamstresses—in her small hand.
I couldn't stay in the open rooms. The glass windows were too vulnerable. I backed away into the deep service corridor that connected the guest quarters to the subterranean laundry facilities, seeking any corner far away from the violence.
Meanwhile, in the central courtyard, Alessandro moved like a phantom through the shadows. Dressed entirely in black, blending into the dark foliage, he sprinted toward the old stone gazebo near the northern perimeter wall where the muzzle flash had originated.
Marco and three tactical operatives flanked him on either side, moving in synchronized tactical formation.
"Clear," Marco muttered, kicking open the wooden gate of the gazebo.
The sniper nest was empty. But sitting on the stone bench was a discarded tripod, a spool of monofilament line, and a small, burning digital burner phone. The screen flickered with a single incoming text message.
Alessandro picked up the phone. The message read: “You thought you found the traitor, Moretti. But the head of the snake is sitting at your own dining table.”
May you like
Alessandro’s eyes narrowed. He looked back toward the glittering windows of the main villa, where the twelve crime bosses were still locked down under armed guard.
"It wasn't just Julian," Alessandro realized aloud, his voice cold as arctic ice. "Julian was just a courier. Someone inside the council orchestrated this entire ambush."
