Chapter 4 - Shadows in the Courtyard
Midnight draped the Falcone estate in an eerie, velvet darkness. The storm had passed, leaving behind a thick, suffocating fog that rolled off Lake Michigan and settled over the manicured gardens below.
I couldn't sleep. The weight of the impending dinner party hung over the mansion like a guillotine blade. Clad in a silk robe Dante’s staff had provided, I stood by the balcony doors, watching the guards patrol the perimeter with flashlights and guard dogs.
Suddenly, a small tug on my robe made me jump.
"Sophia?" I gasped, looking down. "Baby, why aren't you in bed?"
Sophia rubbed her sleepy eyes with her fist, clutching her battered plush rabbit. "The man with the matches is outside, Mommy."
My blood ran instantly cold. "What did you say?"
Sophia pointed toward the expansive private garden directly beneath our terrace. "The man who smells like burning leaves. He's walking in the flowers. He says we shouldn't be here."
I lunged for the balcony door, locking the latch, then rushed to the wall intercom to summon the guards. But before my finger could touch the button, the lights in the entire penthouse flickered and died. Complete darkness swallowed the room.
The backup generators didn't kick in.
"Mommy?" Sophia's voice wavered in the dark.
"Stay down, sweetheart! Get under the bed!" I hissed, scooping her up and shoving her beneath the heavy oak frame just as the sound of shattered glass echoed from the sitting room down the hall.
Someone had breached the penthouse.
My heart felt like it was hammering its way out of my ribs. I had no weapons, no training, nothing but a mother's desperation. I grabbed a heavy brass lamp from the bedside table, ripping the cord from the wall, and stood in the shadows beside the bedroom door, my breath caught in my throat.
Silenced footsteps approached over the hardwood floor. A beam of moonlight through the window illuminated the silhouette of a massive man clad in tactical gear, holding a suppressed pistol. He was moving systematically, room by room, checking the corners. As he stepped across the bedroom threshold, the scent hit my nostrils—pungent, distinct. Clove cigarettes.
Emilio hadn't waited for tomorrow's dinner. He had sent an assassin tonight to eliminate the little girl who held his secrets.
The assassin stepped into the room, raising his gun toward the bed.
With a scream torn from the depths of my soul, I swung the heavy brass lamp with all my might, striking him across the side of his helmet. The blow threw him off balance, his gun discharging with a muffled *phut*, the bullet tearing through the mattress.
"Bitch!" the man roared, grabbing me by the hair and slamming me against the wall. The lamp clattered to the floor. His gloved hand wrapped around my throat, cutting off my air. Spots danced before my eyes as I clawed desperately at his iron grip.
Beneath the bed, Sophia screamed, "Mommy!"
"Shut up, you little rat," the hitman sneered, raising his pistol toward the bottom of the bed.
"No!" I choked out, thrashing violently.
Suddenly, a shadow darker than the night materialized behind the assassin. A gloved hand clamped over the hitman's mouth, while another seized his gun arm, twisting it with a sickening *crack* of breaking bone. The man muffled a scream of agony as he dropped the weapon.
Dante Falcone slammed the assassin face-first into the wall. His movements were terrifyingly swift, an explosion of lethal violence. Without pausing, Dante drove a combat knife cleanly through the man's shoulder, pinning him to the doorframe.
The hitman slumped, groaning in sheer agony.
Dante turned to me. His chest was heaving, his dark hair disheveled, dressed in tactical black. He rushed to my side, his hands gently framing my bruised neck, his thumbs wiping away the tears streaming down my face.
"Are you hit? Did he shoot you?" Dante demanded, his voice thick with a raw, primal panic that shocked me.
"I'm... I'm okay," I gasped, holding his forearms. "Sophia... she's under the bed!"
Dante immediately turned and dropped to his knees. "Sophia. It's Dante. It's safe now. Come out, little bird."
A small sniffling sound came from the shadows, and Sophia crawled out, throwing her tiny arms around Dante's neck. He pulled her tight against his chest, his large frame shielding her completely. He buried his face in her hair, breathing heavily.
"I've got you," Dante whispered fiercely. "I've got both of you."
Marco and a squad of loyal guards rushed into the room with flashlights, weapons drawn. They stopped dead in their tracks at the carnage—and at the sight of their untouchable Don cradling a maid and her child.
May you like
"Sweep the grounds!" Dante barked, not letting go of Sophia. "Kill every infiltrator. And bring Emilio to me alive. It's time Chicago learned what happens to men who touch what is mine."
***
