Chapter 7 - THE RISING STORM
The return of Matteo’s voice sparked a transformation within the Rossi estate. The suffocating silence that had plagued the mansion for over a year began to crumble.
Within two weeks, Matteo was laughing again—a sound that echoed through the marble corridors like music. Clara worked with him relentlessly, utilizing advanced, unconventional neurological stimulation techniques she had pioneered at Johns Hopkins. Slowly, sensation began returning to the upper part of Matteo’s thighs—a miracle that state doctors had deemed permanently impossible.
But as light returned to the Rossi home, a dark cloud was gathering on the horizon.
In the underworld, weakness was a scent that brought predators running. The Moretti family, sensing that Vincent had been distracted by his personal tragedy, launched a bid to seize the syndicate’s shipping routes along the coast.
One rainy Tuesday afternoon, while Clara was in the courtyard helping Matteo practice transferring himself from his wheelchair to a outdoor bench, Dominic burst into Vincent’s study, his face pale.
“Boss, we have a problem,” Dominic reported, shutting the door tightly. “Our informants inside the Moretti camp just confirmed it. Julian Moretti knows about Clara.”
Vincent’s posture went rigid, his eyes turning to black ice. “What do you mean he knows about her?”
“They ran a check on everyone entering and leaving this perimeter,” Dominic explained. “They realized she’s not a standard mob nurse—she’s a high-profile medical specialist. Moretti thinks she’s the key to your emotional stability. He believes that if he takes her out, or kidnaps her, you’ll drop your guard completely.”
Vincent stood up, pulling a heavy tactical rifle from a hidden wall safe. “Double the perimeter guards. Place four snipers on the roof. Nobody leaves this house without an armored motorcade.”
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“It’s worse than that, boss,” Dominic hesitated. “Clara’s shift ended twenty minutes ago. She just drove out of the main gate in her sedan to go to the local pharmacy for Matteo’s physical therapy supplies.”
Vincent’s heart slammed against his ribs. “Get the SUVs. NOW!”
