Chapter 8 - The Falcone Trap
Three days later, the fragile peace of the Castellani estate shattered under the screech of spinning tires.
I was in the sunroom, trying to focus on a design portfolio Elena had brought up, when the distant crack of gunfire echoed across the manicured lawns. My heart leaped into my throat. Before I could even drop the tablet, the double doors flew open, and Rocco rushed in, his face darkened like a thundercloud, an assault rifle gripped tightly in his scarred fist.
"We're compromised," Rocco barked, grabbing my arm with surprising gentleness and pulling me toward the private panic room hidden behind the mahogany library shelves. "Julian Falcone made a suicidal move. He brought a hit squad through the north gates."
"Where is Luciano?" I demanded, panic seizing my chest as I resisted his pull. "Rocco, where is he?"
"He's handling it," Rocco said grimly, shoving me inside the reinforced steel vault just as another volley of automatic gunfire echoed through the manor. "Stay here. If anyone opens this door who isn't me or the boss, you shoot them. Understand?"
The heavy steel door swung shut before I could argue, the electronic lock clicking into place with a definitive, chilling thud.
Inside the vault, surrounded by monitors showing live feeds of the estate, my breath hitched. On screen three, I saw Luciano. He was out in the courtyard near the fountains, moving with lethal, terrifying precision, two bodyguards covering his flanks as they exchanged gunfire with a half-dozen masked intruders creeping up the stone steps. Julian Falcone was nowhere in sight—he was hiding in the shadows, waiting to strike.
My hands shook as I gripped the edge of the steel console. I couldn't just sit here in the dark while the man who had protected me fought for his life. My eyes scanned the security board until I spotted the manual override switch for the estate's exterior floodlights and automated security gates.
If Julian wants a war, I'll give him a blind one.
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With trembling fingers, I slammed my hand down on the master override button. Outside, the entire estate erupted into blinding, stadium-grade white light, instantly silhouetting Julian’s men against the limestone walls and blinding their night-vision scopes.
On the monitors, I watched Luciano instantly capitalize on the flash. In a fluid, devastating motion, he disarmed the nearest intruder, spun him around, and brought the skirmish to a brutal, decisive end. Seconds later, a heavy silence fell over the courtyard.
