Chapter 4 - Bloodlines and Betrayal
While Lorenzo held his daughter for the first time in six years, a black town car slipped through the Duca estate’s security perimeter without tripping the silent alarms.
In the subterranean security monitoring room of the mansion, the wall monitors suddenly flickered.
Leo, Lorenzo’s young head of digital security, frowned as he watched the perimeter feed. "That's strange," he muttered, adjusting his glasses. "The gate sensor didn't log an incoming vehicle badge."
Before Leo could reach for his console intercom, the heavy metal door of the security room was kicked open.
Three men stepped inside, wearing dark tactical gear and balaclavas. Before Leo could raise his hands, a heavy suppressor-fitted pistol barked twice.
Pfft. Pfft.
Leo slumped forward over his desk, his blood pooling across the keyboard as the monitors flickered and died one by one, plunging the estate into digital blindness.
Upstairs, Lorenzo was sitting on the floor of the sitting room, playing softly with Emma’s building blocks, listening to her giggle as she stacked wooden towers. The sound was foreign to these stone walls—pure, untainted joy.
Jeppe entered the room quietly, though his posture was tense, his hand resting inside his suit jacket near his hidden shoulder holster.
"Boss," Jeppe said, keeping his voice carefully level so as not to alarm the child. "We have a problem."
Lorenzo looked up, the warmth instantly draining from his face, replaced in a microsecond by the lethal, calculating coldness of the Syndicate king.
"What kind of problem?" Lorenzo asked, standing up smoothly and placing Emma gently behind him.
"Cameras in the west wing just went offline," Jeppe reported, his eyes darting toward the hallway. "And the perimeter alarms are dead. Someone jammed our relay towers."
"The Falcones," Lorenzo hissed.
"Impossible," Jeppe replied, shaking his head. "We wiped out their leadership three years ago. There’s no one left with the resources to breach this compound."
"Then it's someone from the inside," Lorenzo said, his mind racing. "Someone who knew the security codes."
Suddenly, the overhead lights in the mansion flickered and cut out entirely, plunging the grand estate into emergency red-tinted backup illumination.
From downstairs came the distinct, heavy sound of booted footsteps marching across the marble foyer, followed by the cold, metallic rack of assault rifle bolts.
"Maria," Lorenzo said, turning to the terrified housekeeper. "Take Emma and go to the panic room behind the study bookcase. Do not open it for anyone except me or Jeppe. Do you understand?"
"Mr. Duca—" Maria sobbed, grabbing Emma tightly.
"Go!" Lorenzo commanded.
May you like
He drew his customized Beretta from his shoulder holster, checking the magazine with a practiced click. He handed a secondary compact Sig Sauer to Jeppe.
"Let's go remind them why they used to fear my name," Lorenzo muttered, stepping out into the dark hallway.
