Chapter 7 - Ambush at the Rose Garden
BANG! BANG!
The sound of distant gunshots echoed through the foggy morning air outside the mansion windows!
Emma gasped and clung to my legs. I pulled her into my arms, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.
“Stay here! Do not open this door for anyone except Matteo!” Alessandro commanded me, his voice sharp as steel before he turned and bolted out of the room, his shoes clicking rapidly against the polished floorboards.
Outside in the rose garden, the fog was dense.
Julian, the thirty-four-year-old personal valet who had been trusted with Alessandro’s private wardrobe for nearly a decade, was sprinting down the stone path toward the garden cottage, carrying a leather duffel bag stuffed with cash and stolen documents.
He was heading for a hidden iron gate in the rear stone wall where a getaway car was waiting.
“JULIAN!” Alessandro’s voice roared through the fog like thunder.
Julian spun around in panic, pulling a snub-nosed revolver from his jacket pocket!
BANG!
Julian fired blindly into the mist! The bullet chipped the stone pillar inches from Alessandro’s head!
Alessandro didn't even flinch. He stepped out of the fog with cold, terrifying precision, his silver Beretta raised.
BANG!
A single shot rang out.
Julian screamed as the bullet tore through his right knee, dropping him instantly onto the wet grass of the rose garden! He fell backward, dropping his revolver into the mud as he writhed in agony, clutching his bleeding leg.
Alessandro walked up to him slowly, his polished leather shoes stepping over the wet rose petals.
He stood over the weeping valet, pointing the barrel of his gun directly between Julian’s eyes.
“Eight years, Julian,” Alessandro spoke, his voice dripping with pure ice. “I paid for your mother’s cancer treatment. I bought your sister’s apartment in Rome. And you sold my security codes to the Morello family?”
“Don Alessandro… please!” Julian sobbed, blood soaking his trousers. “They threatened my family! Don Morello said he would kill my sister if I didn't give them access to your wardrobe!”
“Lies,” Matteo said, stepping out from the bushes with three armed guards, carrying Julian’s personal laptop which had just been confiscated from his room. “We just checked his offshore accounts, Boss. He received two million dollars last month from Morello’s front company. He was planning to flee to South America tonight.”
Alessandro’s eyes narrowed into dark, lifeless slits.
“You used a sick maid and a three-year-old child as your cover,” Alessandro whispered, leaning down close to Julian’s face. “You let Clara rot in a freezing cottage so she wouldn't notice you slipping notes into my clothes.”
May you like
“Forgive me! Please, Don Alessandro! Have mercy!” Julian cried hysterically.
“Mercy is for those who ask before they commit treason,” Alessandro said coldly. “Take him to the basement. I want the names of every Morello contact in New York before noon.”
