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THE MOB BOSS WHO CAME IN FROM THE COLD: THE SEVEN-DAY REVENGE / Chapter 4 / 6

Chapter 4 - The Double Agent

Hook: Trapped in a secret tunnel, she overheard the truth. The man trying to kill her wasn't her enemy—he was her only hope.

Through a narrow slit in the secret wooden door, Amara watched in terror as three men walked into the study. Leading them was Enzo, his face no longer wearing the respectful expression he had displayed at the restaurant. Beside him was Leo Falcone.

"He's still alive," Enzo said coldly, kicking Marcello’s foot. "Where is the girl, Vance? Where is Amara Rossi?"

Marcello spat blood onto Enzo’s expensive shoes. "In hell, waiting for you."

Enzo raised his gun, but Leo Falcone reached out and shoved Enzo’s arm down. "Easy, Enzo. If you kill him now, we lose our leverage. We need the Rossi girl to open the biometric safe at Aurelia. My father wants that ledger intact."

"The girl is a nobody!" Enzo snapped. "We can just torture the combination out of her!"

"You don't get it, do you?" Leo said, his voice dripping with disdain. "Marcello didn't just give her the restaurant. He registered her fingerprints into the encrypted security system. If she dies, or if her heart rate is too high during the scan, the safe burns its own contents via a thermite charge. We need her compliant. We need her alive."

Amara held her breath in the dark tunnel, her back pressed against the cold brick wall. Her hands were shaking so violently she almost dropped the gun.

"Find her," Enzo ordered his men. "Search the grounds. She couldn't have gone far. Her car is still outside."

As the men scattered to search the house, Leo stayed behind in the study for a moment. He walked over to the desk, pretending to look through some papers. But when Enzo turned his back to look out the window, Leo did something unexpected.

He slipped a small tracking device onto the floor and kicked it directly toward the base of the bookcase—right where the secret door was.

"She's not here," Leo said loudly, turning back to Enzo. "Let's head back to the city. We'll wait for her at Aurelia. She'll show up to save her own skin."

Enzo grunted in agreement. They dragged Marcello’s semi-conscious body out of the room, their footsteps fading down the hallway.

Amara waited until the house was dead silent before she pushed the secret door open. The study was empty. She looked down and picked up the small black device Leo had kicked toward her. It wasn't just a tracker—it was a miniature burner phone.

Suddenly, the phone vibrated in her hand. A text message lit up the screen.

“I know you’re in the tunnel. Don't trust Enzo. He’s planning to kill Lily tonight regardless of the ledger. Meet me at the docks on Pier 42 in one hour if you want the girl to live. Come alone.” — Leo

Amara stared at the screen. Was this a trap? Leo was a Falcone. His family wanted her dead. But Enzo was a traitor who was currently holding a five-year-old girl hostage.

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The ink on the emergency audit report was barely dry when the secure terminal on my desk flashed a violent crimson. I hadn't slept in thirty-six hours, my eyes burning from staring at columns of ghost figures, duplicate invoices, and shell corporations linked to Dominic Rossi. But the red alert wasn’t from Rossi’s faction. It was an internal security flag originating from the estate’s main vault deep beneath the west wing.

The ink on the emergency audit report was barely dry when the secure ter...

The glass shattered into a thousand tiny diamonds on the marble, scattering the light from the chandeliers. The muffled laughter died instantly, replaced by a suffocating, heavy silence that crept outward from the grand staircase.

The glass shattered into a thousand tiny diamonds on the marble, scatter...

The heavy oak doors of my private study clicked shut behind us, locking out the clinical, terrifying silence of the kitchen. Evelyn Crane stood stiffly in front of my mahogany desk, her hands folded over her apron with the rigid precision of someone who had spent decades micromanaging every square inch of my estate. Behind her, Norah hovered near the doorway, clutching her clipboard like a shield.

The heavy oak doors of my private study clicked shut behind us, locking...

She looked at the stuffed lamb in her pocket. She remembered Lily's tiny hand clutching it in the warm restaurant.

Amara gripped the gun tightly, checked the magazine the way she had seen in movies, and headed out into the snow. She was done running.

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