Alessia commanded him to kneel and apologize

Alessia looked at her mother, the sharp tactical truth of Miriam’s words cutting through the adrenaline of the moment. The bright lights of the chandeliers cast long, dramatic shadows across the ruined marble floor.

"You are right, Mother," Alessia said, her voice a low, focused hum. "Garrett was an arrogant fool, but he wasn't a tactician. He wouldn't know how to disable the perimeter alarms to let the Falcones through. Someone else had to clear the path."

Miriam adjusted her simple cardigan, her rosy face calm despite the looming threat of a siege. "Before the gala began, I saw Thomas, your head of security, speaking with Garrett near the wine cellar. They were reviewing the architectural blueprints of the estate."

Vincent, standing nearby, cursed under his breath. "Thomas? He’s been with the family for ten years. Why would he turn?"

"Ten years is a long time to wait for a promotion," Alessia noted coldly. "And the Falcones pay well for betrayal."

She reached into her luxurious gown, retrieving a sleek, encrypted communication device. She pressed a single button, connecting directly to the central security hub.

"Thomas," Alessia said, her American accent perfectly steady.

"Yes, Boss?" Thomas’s voice crackled over the radio, sounding perfectly normal. "We are monitoring the perimeter. No sign of the Falcone vehicles yet."

"I need you in the main ballroom immediately," Alessia commanded. "We have a breach in the eastern wing."

"Copy that. On my way," Thomas replied.

Alessia lowered the radio and looked at Vincent. "Disarm him the moment he walks through those doors. Do not kill him. I need his access codes to lock down the secondary gates."

Vincent nodded, drawing his suppressed firearm and stepping into the blind spot behind the heavy oak double doors. Alessia stood in the center of the room, her posture radiating elegant, lethal confidence. She smoothed the fabric of her gown, the missing wedding ring leaving a faint indentation on her finger.

The heavy doors swung open. Thomas stepped into the bright light of the ballroom, his hand resting on his holstered weapon. He scanned the room, his eyes landing on the shattered fountain and the ruined banquet console.

"Boss, what happened here?" Thomas asked, stepping fully into the room.

Before he could take another breath, Vincent moved with blinding speed. He slammed the butt of his pistol into the back of Thomas’s knee, forcing the security chief to the marble floor. In a fluid, practiced motion, Vincent stripped Thomas of his firearm and pinned him face-down against the cold stone.

"What the hell is this?!" Thomas shouted, struggling against the heavy weight of the capo. "Boss, tell him to get off me!"

Alessia walked slowly toward the pinned man, her heels clicking ominously. She stopped just inches from his face, looking down at him with an expression of profound disappointment.

"Garrett is currently crawling down the driveway, Thomas," Alessia said quietly. "His mother is in a holding cell. And I have Evelyn’s phone, complete with the text messages confirming the Falcone hit."