Chapter 4 - Blood in the Dark
The backup generator kicked in three seconds later, bathing the room in an amber emergency glow. Dominic Vance stood at the entrance of the dining room, flanked by four elite mercenaries wearing unmarked tactical gear. In Vance’s right hand, a heavy assault rifle was aimed directly at Rocco’s chest.
"You miscalculated, boss," Vance said, a smug grin cutting across his scarred jaw. "Loyalty isn't bought with gold watches. It’s bought with survival. Valentina promised us safe passage to Zurich with half the syndicate’s offshore accounts. All we had to do was erase a couple of inconvenient children—starting with the one your little maid just dragged out of the trash."
Marco reached instinctively for his sidearm, but a suppressed crack echoed through the room. Marco stumbled backward, clutching a bleeding shoulder, crashing hard against the mahogany table.
Rocco didn't flinch. His hand remained inches from his Beretta. "Vance. You were like a son to me."
"Business, Rocco," Vance sneer, stepping further into the room. "You taught me that yourself."
Valentina sidestepped away from Rocco, moving toward the mercenaries. "Kill him," she ordered sharply. "And bring me the child from upstairs. We finish this once and for all."
"Not quite," a small, sharp voice echoed from the grand staircase behind the mercenaries.
Vance spun around, his rifle tracking toward the sound. Standing halfway down the steps, barefoot and completely unafraid, was eight-year-old Sophia. In her arms, she wasn't holding the baby anymore.
She was holding a heavy, pin-pulled M67 fragmentation grenade.
"If you take one step closer to Mr. Moretti," Sophia said, her voice unnervingly calm, "I drop this. My mama taught me how to clean the grenade lockers in the basement. I know how long the pin takes to pop."
The mercenaries froze. Vance’s face turned the color of ash. He knew the Moretti security vaults; those grenades were live, housed in every sector of the mansion.
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"You little brat—" Vance snarled, raising his rifle toward the stairs.
It was the half-second distraction Rocco needed.
