Chapter 12 - The Intruder in the Rain
The storm broke over the mountains with sudden, violent fury, transforming the manicured lawns of the Rossi estate into a churning sea of mud and driving rain. Sirens wailed softly across the property, a low, pulsing hum that signaled lockdown protocol.
Dominic didn't hesitate. He pulled his Sig Sauer from his shoulder holster, checking the chamber with a crisp clack, and motioned for me to stay behind the reinforced marble pillar of the study.
“Stay here,” he ordered, his voice dropping into its coldest, most commanding register.
“Like hell I will,” I muttered, already grabbing my canvas medical bag—now fully stocked with trauma supplies, intravenous lines, and a heavy-duty tactical flashlight. “Whoever is crashing our driveway isn't coming for a social visit. If they get past Leo, someone’s going to need stitching.”
We moved through the dimly lit corridors together, boots clicking rhythmically against the antique flooring. The mansion felt cavernous, the flashing red emergency strobes painting the walls in an eerie, pulsing crimson.
When we reached the grand foyer, the massive oak front doors stood wide open, battered by wind and rain. Water poured across the imported marble floor, pooling around the boots of three heavily armed guards who stood with their weapons raised.
In the center of the foyer, kneeling in a puddle of rainwater and mud, was a figure in a soaked trench coat.
“Hold your fire!” Dominic barked, stepping forward.
The figure slowly raised their head. Dark hair plastered to a pale, sharp-featured face, eyes burning with a desperate, frantic intensity. It wasn't an assassin. It was a young woman, barely twenty-two, shivering violently—not from the cold, but from sheer terror.
“Are you Dominic Rossi?” she gasped, her voice cracking over the sound of the rain.
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“I am,” Dominic said, keeping his gun leveled at a safe angle, his body tense. “Identify yourself before my men finish the job your arrival interrupted.”
“My name is Elena,” she choked out, her hands trembling as she reached inside her soaked coat and pulled out a heavy, bloodstained ledger identical to the one on Dominic’s desk. “Marco was my brother. And the man who told him to kill you... is still inside your house.”
