Chapter 6 - The Breach at Il Destino
Rico stood up instantly, stepping directly between Clara, his son, and the frosted-glass doors.
"Eleanor," Rico spat, his dark eyes narrowing into two icy slits of pure hatred. "I should have known it was you. My father’s sister. The snake who managed the family trusts."
Behind the glass, the shadow of Eleanor Moretti let out a soft, chilling laugh. "Your father was weak, Ricardo. He left fifty percent of the global holdings to this... this common waitress you married. When I staged the accident four years ago, I didn't want her dead. A dead wife creates legal probate delays that take decades to clear."
"You put her in a memory-wiping facility in Zurich," Dante realized aloud, his face darkening with rage. "You wiped her identity, planted her in this city as a nameless service worker, and kept her alive just enough to keep the trust accounts from reverting to the state!"
"And she would have stayed that way forever," Eleanor’s voice replied cold-bloodedly through the speaker. "Living a quiet, miserable little life carrying plates to rich people, completely unaware that she sits on a four-billion-dollar fortune. Until your little boy happened to throw a plate in her dining room today."
"You won't touch her again, Eleanor," Rico growled, drawing a sleek black custom pistol from his inner Brioni jacket pocket, racking the slide with a sharp, lethal CLACK. "Not while I'm breathing."
"Oh, Ricardo," Eleanor sighed with theatrical pity. "You always were too romantic for this business."
BOOM.
An explosive breaching charge attached to the exterior courtyard frame detonated with deafening force.
The heavy frosted-glass doors shattered into ten thousand glittering, sharp crystalline fragments that rained across the white-marble floor. Dense, white tactical smoke poured through the opening, obscuring the view of the courtyard as two armed mercenaries dressed in dark tactical gear leaped through the breach, their weapons raised.
"DOWN!" Dante roared, opening fire instantly with his suppressed pistol.
STAT-STAT-STAT.
The quiet coughs of Dante’s suppressed rounds echoed through the smoke. The lead mercenary crumpled to the floorboards with a heavy thud, his weapon clattering against the marble.
May you like
Rico reached down with his left hand, grabbing Clara by her forearm, and pulled her and Leo up from the floor with incredible force, shielding them behind his body as he fired three rapid shots through the smoke screen.
"Get them to the kitchen service elevator!" Rico commanded Dante over the gunfire. "NOW!"
