Chapter 1 - The Assault on the Estate
The blast shattered every window along the front parlor, raining diamond-like shards of glass onto the thick Persian rugs. The heavy wooden double doors at the main entrance were blown off their brass hinges, collapsing inward in a cloud of plaster dust and black smoke.
Automatic gunfire echoed across the courtyard, loud and deafening.
Victor Moretti didn't flinch. Decades of surviving New York’s brutal underworld had turned his instincts into pure steel. In a single fluid movement, he shoved me down behind his solid mahogany desk, scooped eight-month-old Lily out of her stroller, and pinned her securely against his chest with his left arm. With his right hand, he pulled a sleek black sidearm from beneath his jacket, flicking the safety off.
"Down! Stay low, Hannah!" Victor roared over the terrifying sound of splintering wood and shouted orders.
"Lily! Give me my baby!" I shrieked, my hands trembling as I reached up from the floor.
"She’s safer with me right now!" Victor growled, his eyes darting toward the hallway as three of his personal guards in tactical vests took up defensive positions in the doorway, firing back into the smoke.
"Boss! It's the Marcone family!" one of the guards screamed before a bullet caught him in the shoulder, spinning him around. "They brought two armored SUVs through the perimeter gate! They know she's here!"
My mind reeled in horror. The Marcones? Why would New York's second most powerful crime syndicate storm Victor Moretti’s heavily fortified estate for my sick daughter?
Victor grabbed the back of my coat collar, dragging me toward a hidden bookcase along the eastern wall. He slammed a hidden button beneath the shelf, and a section of the wood slid backward, revealing a reinforced steel door leading down into a subterranean vault.
"Get inside! Now!" Victor barked, shoving me into the dimly lit passageway.
He stepped in right behind me, slamming the heavy steel door shut and throwing three mechanical bolts into place just as a barrage of bullets slammed against the outside panel. The muffled thuds rattled the frame, but the door held fast.
We were in a concrete bunker equipped with tactical monitors, weapons racks, and a full medical station. Victor immediately laid Lily down on a sterile exam table. Her tiny forehead was still burning with fever, her dark eyes wide with confusion and fear as she whimpered softly.
"What is happening?!" I sobbed, rushing to my daughter's side and kissing her burning cheek. "Who are those people?! Why did you say Elena Rossi died because of you?!"
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Victor stood over the exam table, his face a mask of pale shock, staring down at the silver locket resting against Lily’s chest. The man known across the tri-state area as a ruthless, heartless monster looked completely broken.
"Elena Rossi wasn't just your mother, Hannah," Victor said, his voice dropping into a raspy, gravelly whisper that sent cold chills down my spine. "She was my younger sister."
