Chapter 15 - The Uninvited Guest
Two weeks of absolute peace settled over the estate, slipping by like a quiet dream. The leaves turned from gold to brittle brown, and the first crisp bite of winter began to frost the windows in the mornings.
Then, on a Tuesday evening at precisely 11:14 PM, the perimeter alarms triggered.
It wasn't a silent digital ping or a minor sensor malfunction. The heavy sirens echoed across the sprawling Connecticut grounds, flashing red warning lights against the dark glass of the conservatory.
I was in the study within three seconds, my Beretta drawn and cocked, as Marco burst through the double doors, breathing heavily, holding a tactical tablet displaying the exterior feed.
"Boss, we have an uninvited guest at the main front gates," Marco reported rapidly, tapping the screen to zoom in on the security camera footage. "A single vehicle. No convoy, no backup. Just a lone Lincoln Town Car parked right in front of the reinforced steel barriers."
I stared at the screen. A single figure stepped out from the driver’s side of the car, raising both hands slowly in the air to show they were unarmed, stepping directly into the glare of the high-intensity floodlights.
Even through the grainy black-and-white camera feed, the posture, the tailored overcoat, and the silver-trimmed cane were unmistakable.
May you like
It was Antonio Moretti.
My uncle. The man who had supposedly died in a warehouse fire in Palermo twenty-five years ago.
