Chapter 7 - A temporary sanctuary
The panic room was small, filled with the hum of servers and the cool, sterile scent of air conditioning.
Dante collapsed onto the small cot in the corner, his breathing shallow and wet. I immediately went to work, tearing open the medical kit mounted on the wall.
"Mia, Sofia, sit here," I said, pointing to the corner furthest from the door. "Keep playing the quiet game, okay? You're doing so well. I am so proud of you."
They nodded, huddled together, watching me with wide, trusting eyes.
"Clara..." Dante whispered, his hand reaching out.
"Don't talk," I said, opening a pack of sterile gauze and pressing it firmly onto his side. He hissed, his fingers digging into my arm. "You're bleeding too much. I need to stop the hemorrhage."
"In the... top drawer," he gasped, pointing to a small metal desk. "Syringe. Epinephrine... and clotting agent."
I found the drawer, pulled out the auto-injector, and jammed it into his thigh. He shuddered, his eyes flying wide as the medication hit his system. His breathing stabilized slightly, the color returning to his lips.
"The cameras," Dante said, nodding toward the wall of monitors.
I looked up.
The screens showed the entire estate.
In the hallway outside the study, three men in black tactical gear were trying to plant an explosive charge on the steel door of the panic room.
On another screen, near the front gates, I saw three black SUVs roar up the driveway.
"Who is that?" I asked, my heart sinking. "More of Viktor's men?"
Dante looked at the monitor, a grim smile touching his pale lips. "No. That's my brother, Antonio. And the rest of the family. I triggered the silent alarm when Viktor first drew his gun."
"Then we just have to wait," I said, relief washing over me.
"No," Dante said, his eyes scanning the monitors. "Look at the nursery screen."
I looked.
There was a man in the nursery. He wasn't wearing tactical gear. He was dressed in a expensive, tailored grey suit, his hair slicked back. He was standing over Viktor’s body, looking down with a expression of disgust.
"Who is that?"
"Lorenzo Valetti," Dante spat, his hand clenching into a fist. "The head of the Valetti family. He didn't just hire Viktor. He came himself to make sure the job was done. To make sure my bloodline was ended."
Lorenzo looked up, straight into the security camera.
He smiled.
He held up a small, black device. A detonator.
"He's going to blow the main support columns," Dante said, his voice rising in panic. "The whole house... it will collapse. He knows he’s lost, so he’s going to bury us all."
"But his own men are in here!"
"He doesn't care about his men," Dante said, trying to stand up, but his legs buckled. I caught him, lowering him back onto the cot. "Clara... you have to take the girls. There is an escape hatch in the floor. It leads to the sewer system. It’s tight, but you can make it."
"And you?"
"I'm dead weight," Dante said, looking at me with an intensity that burned. "If you try to carry me, you all die. Take them. Go. Save my daughters."
"No," I said, my voice firm. "I'm not leaving you. And I'm not letting him win."
I looked at the monitors. Lorenzo was walking out of the nursery, heading toward the grand staircase.
"The PA system," I said, pointing to a microphone on the desk. "Does it work?"
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"Yes," Dante said, confused. "Why?"
"Because," I said, a cold, Rossi anger suddenly blooming in my chest, "it's time to sing."
