Chapter 12 - The Ghost in the Machine
Inside the besieged Palermo villa, Don Alessio Savino paced frantically across the marble floor of his war room. His face was slick with nervous sweat. "How did they hit our grid? Our firewalls were military-grade!"
Before his tech specialist could answer, every smart screen, television, and computer monitor in the mansion flickered to life simultaneously. A single image materialized on every display: the crest of the Moretti dynasty, stamped with a timestamp counting down from sixty seconds.
A synthesized, calm voice echoed through the estate’s intercom speakers: "Don Alessio. You have exactly one minute to walk out the front gates unarmed, or your offshore accounts will be permanently transferred to the Red Cross, leaving your family penniless in the streets of Rome."
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Alessio’s knees buckled. He slammed his fist against the desk, realizing with sheer horror that the underworld had changed. The era of brute force and street brawls was dead. They were now at the mercy of a nineteen-year-old girl who could erase an empire with a keystroke.
As the timer hit zero, the heavy oak doors of the villa blew inward not with explosives, but with the systematic disengagement of every smart lock in the building. Sophia walked in alone, her boots clicking softly against the marble floor, her expression as impassive as stone.
