Chapter 9 - Turning the Tide
In the study, Alessandro capitalized on the confusion instantly.
As the two remaining mercenaries stumbled backward, clutching their bleeding ears, Alessandro charged out from behind the marble pillar. He slammed the butt of his pistol into the temple of the nearest attacker, dropping him like a stone.
The final operative tried to raise his rifle, but Alessandro drove his boot hard into the man’s knee, spinning him around and applying a lethal chokehold until the mercenary slumped unconscious to the floor.
Silence descended on the ruined study, broken only by the crackle of distant flames and the hiss of the sprinkler system kicking in overhead.
Alessandro’s chest heaved as he stood amidst the debris, his clothes stained with soot and blood.
His comms crackled to life.
“Boss! Boss, do you copy?” Marco’s voice shouted through heavy interference.
“I’m here, Marco. Report,” Alessandro breathed, wiping sweat from his eyes.
“We secured the perimeter! The mercenaries are pulling back, but we tracked their command signal to the south botanical greenhouse! It’s Dante, Boss. Dante Moretti is running the hit!”
Alessandro’s blood ran ice cold.
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Dante. His own blood. The cousin he had spared from exile three years ago because of family loyalty.
“Lock down every exit,” Alessandro commanded, his voice dropping into a register of pure, unadulterated fury. “Do not let him leave the grounds alive.”
