Chapter 6
That evening, the fragile peace of the estate was violently shattered.
I was working late in the study, reviewing cargo manifests from the port authority, when a series of muffled pops echoed from the ground floor. Not firecrackers. Suppressed gunfire.
Before I could reach for the panic button beneath my desk, the heavy oak door splintered inward under the force of a heavy kick. Three armed men in black tactical gear poured into the room, their suppressed submachine guns leveled straight at my chest.
“Don't move, Moretti!” the lead gunman snarled, his face hidden behind a black balaclava. “The Outfit sends their regards.”
My hands rested casually on the armrests of my wheelchair. My heart didn't race; adrenaline had been my constant companion for a decade. But my eyes flicked to the desk drawer where my backup Glock was locked away—too far to reach without taking a hail of lead.
“You picked a bad night to break into my house,” I said calmly, my voice chillingly low.
The gunman chuckled, stepping closer and raising his weapon to line up with my head. “Your empire is dead, Moretti. You’re just a cripple in a chair waiting for a—"
Thwack.
Before he could finish the sentence, a heavy brass floor lamp came crashing down with bone-crushing force directly across the back of his helmet. The gunman dropped like a stone, collapsing onto the Persian rug.
Behind him stood Emma, her eyes wide with adrenaline, holding the shattered remains of the heavy brass lamp like a baseball bat.
The second gunman whipped around, leveling his rifle at her. “You little bitch—”
I didn't hesitate. Throwing my weight forward, I grabbed the heavy marble paperweight from my desk and hurled it with lethal precision. It caught him square in the temple, buckling his knees just long enough for me to draw the small derringer pistol taped beneath my desk and drop him with a single shot to the shoulder.
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The third man raised his weapon, but a deafening roar echoed from the hallway as Luke rounded the corner with a shotgun, blowing the intruder back out into the corridor.
Silence descended on the study once more, broken only by the smell of cordite and the sound of Emma’s heavy, terrified breathing.
