Chapter 5 - The Siege of the Estate
The driveway became a killing floor in under ninety seconds.
The three remaining Moretti mercenaries scrambled for cover behind their armored SUV, firing wild bursts of automatic gunfire toward the second-floor balcony. Bullets chipped away at the white stone balustrade, sending showers of dust into the air.
"Cover left! Cover left!" one of the mercenaries screamed into his tactical radio. "He’s got high ground!"
Inside the mansion, Gideon moved with practiced, military speed. He led Mrs. Higgins and Isabella down a hidden spiral staircase behind a bookshelf in the study, guiding them into a reinforced steel panic room thirty feet beneath the foundations of the estate.
The panic room was equipped with independent air filtration, live security monitors, medical supplies, and comfortable leather seating.
"Stay inside, lock the hatch from the wheel, and do not open it for anyone except Mr. Torino or myself," Gideon instructed, handing Mrs. Higgins a small panic button transmitter.
Isabella sat on the edge of a leather sofa, her small hands clutching a plush velvet throw blanket. She looked up at the wall-mounted security screens, which displayed live feeds of the driveway and the mansion corridors.
On Screen Three, she saw Vincent.
He was moving down the grand marble staircase of the foyer, holding a heavy black combat shotgun, his dark wool coat billowing behind him like the wings of a shadow. He didn't look frightened. He didn't look frantic. He looked like an unstoppable force of nature walking toward a storm he had created himself.
Outside, two mercenaries attempted to breach the side terrace doors leading into the glass conservatory.
Vincent stepped out from behind a heavy mahogany pillar, racking the shotgun slide with a deafening clack-clack.
"Looking for something?" Vincent’s voice echoed through the conservatory.
The first mercenary turned his rifle toward Vincent, but Vincent fired first.
The heavy 12-gauge slug hit the mercenary squarely in the body armor, blasting him backward through the glass doors, sending crystal shards flying into the sunlight.
The second mercenary dropped his weapon, throwing his hands into the air, trembling violently as he stared down the barrel of Vincent’s shotgun.
"Don't shoot! Don't shoot!" the mercenary begged, his voice high and shrill inside his ski mask. "Don Anthony sent us! He said if we took the kid, you'd surrender the port leases!"
Vincent stepped closer, his boots crunching over shattered glass.
"Don Anthony sent boys to do a titan's job," Vincent said coldly.
He struck the mercenary across the jaw with the heavy wooden stock of the shotgun, knocking the man unconscious instantly.
Within five minutes, the estate grounds were secure once more.
Gideon’s security team fanned out across the driveway, securing the surviving mercenaries, clearing the vehicles, and restoring the perimeter defense grid.
Vincent lowered his weapon, wiping a fleck of dust from his dark coat, and walked down the spiral staircase into the sub-basement panic room.
He tapped a six-digit code into the heavy steel keypad. The vault door unlatched with a heavy pneumatic hiss, swinging open slowly.
Inside, Mrs. Higgins sat trembling in the corner, but Isabella was standing near the door, staring up at him.
Vincent stepped inside, setting his shotgun against the wall. He crouched down in front of her, checking her face, her arms, her hands.
"Are you hurt, Isabella?" he asked softly.
Isabella shook her head. She looked at his face, at the faint dust on his shoulder, and then threw her small arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.
Vincent froze for a fraction of a second.
He had not been hugged by a child in thirty years. He was a man made of iron, violence, and corporate strategy. Yet, as her small arms wrapped around his neck, he felt the heavy, icy walls around his heart crumble into dust.
Slowly, gently, Vincent wrapped his large arms around her, lifting her into his chest, holding her close as he stood up.
"Is the monster gone, Mr. Torino?" Isabella whispered into his shoulder.
May you like
Vincent looked out the open vault door toward the dark corridor leading up to the light.
"The monsters who came to this house are gone, Isabella," Vincent promised her, his voice low and unwavering. "And tonight, I am going to make sure the man who sent them never wakes up again."
