Chapter 16 - The Counter-Strike
Rocco didn't flinch. He didn't raise his voice. He simply stared at the cracked wooden floorboards of the Sicilian foyer while the voice on the other end waited for a tremor of panic that never came.
"You made a critical error," Rocco said quietly into the phone.
"Oh? And what is that?" the synthesized voice mocked.
"You brought a war to my doorstep," Rocco replied, pressing a small panic beacon on his encrypted watch. "And in my world, the people who threaten my family don't live long enough to collect."
"Cut the line!" Marco yelled from the back hallway, dragging a stunned, unconscious assassin across the stone tiles. "Boss, we intercepted their radio frequencies. The strike team isn't acting alone. They have a staging ground at an abandoned maritime warehouse near the Palermo harbor. And they have hostages—Sophia traced a localized signal from our estate's backup router. They didn't just come for Bianca; they had a secondary team infiltrate the New York mansion."
Rocco’s blood ran cold. The mansion.
"Sophia," Rocco breathed, abandoning the phone as he dialed the secure satellite frequency directly to the home command center.
The line connected instantly, but there were no words—only the muffled sounds of shattering glass, heavy boots marching across marble floors, and the sharp, distinctive click of a security override alarm echoing through the receiver.
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"Sophia! Report!" Rocco commanded.
A sharp gasp echoed on the line, followed by a tense, steady voice. "Mr. Moretti... they bypassed the perimeter grid using Valentina’s old master access codes. Leo is secure in the panic room, but... but they've cut the communication lines to the outer gates. You need to come back."
