Chapter 5 - THE PRICE OF LOYALTY"Mommy!" Emma whimpered.
I backed up until my heels hit a heavy wooden wine rack. My hand reached behind me in the dark, my fingers wrapping around the cool, heavy glass neck of a vintage 1945 wine bottle.
"I'm giving it to you," I said, my voice shaking, pretending to reach into my pocket. "Just don't hurt her."
"Smart girl," Marco sneered, taking two steps closer and lowering his flashlight slightly. "Give it here."
With every ounce of strength I had left in my body, I swung the heavy wine bottle with all my might.
CRASH!
The thick glass shattered against the side of Marco's face. He let out a bloody roar of pain, dropping his flashlight and rifle as he stumbled backward, clutching his broken jaw.
"Run, Emma! Run!" I screamed.
I grabbed Emma's hand and sprinted down the narrow corridor of the wine cellar toward the escape tunnel. Behind us, I heard Marco screaming curses in Italian and the chaotic sounds of gunfire echoing from the upper floors.
We reached a heavy steel blast door at the end of the cellar. Beside it was a keyless entry pad glowing green.
A code! I need a code!
Panic seized my chest. I didn't know Alessandro's security codes! I punched in random numbers, but the panel beeped red each time.
Error. Error.
Footsteps were heavy behind us. Marco was coming, wiping blood from his face, his eyes full of murderous rage. "You're dead, bitch!"
Suddenly, a hand reached out from the shadows beside the door and grabbed Marco by the throat, slamming him against the brick wall with bone-crushing force.
It was Alessandro. His jacket was gone, his white shirt torn and stained with blood, but his dark eyes were burning with pure fury.
"You laid a trap in my house, Marco," Alessandro snarled, tightening his grip on the traitor's throat until Marco's legs dangled off the ground. "You targeted my brother's family."
SNAP.
Alessandro let the limp body drop to the cold floor like a sack of stones.
He turned to me, breathing heavily. Blood was dripping from a small cut on his forehead, but he ignored it. He walked over to the keypad, his long fingers swiftly typing in a six-digit code: 0-7-1-2-1-9.
My heart stopped. That was the date of my wedding with Arthur.
The heavy steel door unlocked with a deep mechanical hiss, sliding open to reveal a dark underground garage with a black armored SUV waiting inside.
"Get in," Alessandro said, ushering us through the door.
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"Alessandro, you're bleeding!" I cried, grabbing his arm.
"It's not my blood," he replied coldly, looking back toward the mansion. "The house is compromised. Don Ricci was set up. The entire syndicate is falling apart tonight. We have to get out of Italy before dawn."
