Chapter 24 - The Siege of the Estate
Smoke billowed from the ceiling vent as the heavy steel security doors of the subterranean archive shuddered under the impact of a high-explosive breach charge.
"They're hitting the main armory sector," Leo said, his voice cold and decisive. He grabbed a tactical vest from the wall rack and strapped it over his shoulders with practiced efficiency. "Sophia, get your mother to the safe room beneath the vineyard cellar. Now."
"I'm not running, Leo," Sophia said, pulling a suppressed submachine gun from the open locker and slamming a fresh magazine into the well. "I designed the structural load points of this entire sector. If they try to breach through the upper vault, I know exactly which support beams to drop on their heads."
Elena didn't argue. She knew the stubborn resilience of her daughter—the same resilience that had carried an infant out of the trash eight years ago. She grabbed a heavy-duty communications radio from the desk and nodded to Leo. "The eastern courtyard gate has a manual override. If they cut the main power grid, the automated turrets will fail within four minutes."
"They won't get four minutes," Leo replied, turning toward the reinforced corridor as a second, heavier explosion shook the foundations of the mansion.
Stepping out of the bunker and into the dimly lit stone corridors, Leo moved with the lethal, silent grace of a seasoned commander. At the top of the stone staircase leading to the main dining room, three elite mercenaries wearing unmarked black tactical gear were planting a linear cutting charge against the oak double doors.
Leo didn't waste a breath on warnings. His Beretta barked twice—two precise, suppressed rounds finding their targets before the mercenaries even realized they were flanked. They collapsed silently onto the polished marble floor.
As Leo reached the dining room, a voice echoed from the grand chandelier-lit hall ahead.
"You always were too predictable, dear brother," a smooth, cultured voice called out from the shadows of the grand staircase.
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Leo stopped, his weapon locked dead ahead. Standing on the middle landing, dressed in an immaculate white suit that contrasted sharply with the blood and smoke around him, was a man who looked strikingly like Leo and Julian—possessing the same piercing dark eyes, but with a cold, aristocratic smile that reeked of absolute arrogance.
"Dante," Leo said, the name tasting like ash on his tongue.
