Chapter 4 - DEPTHS OF THE MAFIA VAULT
The emergency brakes clamped down with a screeching metal roar, jolting the elevator to a violent halt. The impact threw me to the floor, my elbows slamming hard against the steel plate. I kept Emma pinned beneath me, protecting her small body with everything I had.
Silence fell, broken only by the sound of our panicked breathing and the drip of water somewhere far below.
"Mommy... it's dark," Emma sobbed quietly.
"I know, baby. I know. Mommy's here," I whispered, reaching blindly into my apron pocket. My phone screen was cracked, but the flashlight still worked.
The light cut through the dust-choked air. We were trapped in a vertical concrete shaft forty feet underground. Above us, the elevator cables hung limp and severed. Vivian's men had cut the lines to eliminate us without firing a single shot.
"We have to move," I said to myself, checking Emma for injuries. Miraculous, she was unhurt, still clutching the shredded blue rabbit.
I pushed open the emergency escape hatch in the floor of the elevator car. Below lay a dimly lit stone tunnel—an old escape route built during World War II that connected the Villa’s vault to the Milan sewer systems.
Dropping down into the damp tunnel, I reached back up and pulled Emma into my arms.
We walked through the echoing subterranean dark for what felt like hours, the smell of damp earth and rust thick in the air. Suddenly, shadows flickered at the end of the corridor.
I froze, turning off the flashlight, hugging the rough stone wall.
Footsteps echoed—heavy, measured, accompanied by the distinct clink of polished dress shoes on wet concrete.
A beam of light swept across the tunnel, landing directly on us.
"I told you the panic room leads down here, boys," a deep, raspy voice chuckled.
It wasn't Alessandro.
Stepping out from the shadow was Don Ricci—the oldest, most respected Don in Milan, the man who had pretended to support Alessandro in the dining hall hours ago. Behind him stood six heavily armed men, and at his side... was Vivian Romano, wiping blood from a minor cheek graze.
"Look what we found," Vivian purred, her eyes gleaming with sadistic delight. "The little maid and the bastard heir."
"Where is Alessandro?" I demanded, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to sound strong.
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Don Ricci offered a cruel, yellow-toothed smile. "Alessandro is currently bleeding out on his office rug, my dear. He was too weak, too foolish, letting a maid into his inner circle. Now, give us the child."
CHAPTER 4 HOOK: Vivian stepped forward, pulling a knife from her tactical belt. "I'll make this quick, Clara. Give me the girl, or I’ll cut your throat right here in the sewer." But before she took another step, a red laser dot appeared directly on the center of Don Ricci's forehead.
