Chapter 3 - The Traitor's FaceThe gunfire in the east wing was dying down, replaced by the sickening thuds of hand-to-hand combat and the occasional crack of a silenced pistol. Adrian’s personal security detail—men fiercely loyal to him—were purging the estate room by room.
We moved through the dimly lit corridors, Adrian rolling swiftly over the polished hardwood floors with a tactical rig strapped across his chest, and me walking right beside him, holding our baby in one arm and a captured MP5 submachine gun in the other.
As we reached the grand foyer, the heavy double doors leading to the courtyard blew open.
A tall, silver-haired man walked in, flanked by four elite bodyguards. He wore an immaculate charcoal suit that didn't have a single speck of dust, despite the warzone raging outside. His eyes were cold, calculating, and predatory.
Viktor Vane.
The man who had tortured my childhood memories. The man who had forced my mother to live in constant fear of the dark.
"Adrian Moretti," Vane called out, his voice echoing smoothly across the marble floor. "I must admit, your security is sloppy tonight. Cutting off the head of the snake is surprisingly easy when the beast is distracted by a newborn child."
Adrian’s hands tightened on his wheels, his knuckles turning pure white. "Viktor. I wondered when you’d crawl out from the sewer."
Vane chuckled, stepping forward, then abruptly froze. His gaze shifted past Adrian, landing directly on me standing in the shadows of the staircase landing.
His eyes widened in sudden, profound disbelief.
"No..." Vane whispered, color draining from his face as if he had just seen a ghost. "That’s impossible. Gabriel’s brat died in the fire in Chicago."
I stepped forward into the pale moonlight pouring through the shattered dome of the foyer, raising my chin with the icy pride of a Romano.
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"My father taught me how to survive fires, Viktor," I said, my voice cutting through the silence like a razor. "And he also taught me what a traitor looks like."
Vane’s face contorted from shock into a twisted, ugly sneer. "It doesn't matter. If you survived then, you won't survive tonight. Kill them all!" he screamed to his bodyguards.
