Chapter 7
The third floor of the Ferrante mansion was a state-of-the-art medical pavilion, installed years ago to handle trauma without the risk of municipal hospital paper trails. The air here smelled of antiseptic, iodine, and sterile gauze.
Through the double glass doors of the operating theater, Nico could see Dr. Bennett and two surgical nurses moving with frantic, practiced efficiency around the elevated bed. Monitors beeped in erratic, rapid cadences. Sienna lay pale beneath the bright surgical lamps, an oxygen mask over her face, her eyes rolling back as the anesthesiologist administered the regional block.
In the waiting anteroom, Nico set Mila down on a leather sofa, draping his heavy suit jacket over her small shoulders like a protective blanket.
"Sit here with Mrs. Gable, Mila," Nico said, nodding to the elderly, trusted housekeeper who had hurried in from the residential wing with a warm cup of milk. "Do not move from this couch."
"Grandpa, will Mommy be okay?" Mila asked, her hazel eyes wide with profound, childish worry.
Nico knelt before her, his large, calloused hand gently cupping her chin. "Your mother is a Ferrante, little bird. She is stronger than all of them put together. I promise you, she will hold you before the sun comes up."
Nico stood up, his jaw hardening as Cassian approached from the end of the corridor, holding an encrypted tactical tablet.
"Boss," Cassian murmured, keeping his voice low so Mila wouldn't hear. "The motion sensors on the north perimeter road just tripped. Three black Suburbans. No headlights. They bypassed the outer county checkpoint three minutes ago."
Nico walked over to the reinforced window that looked out over the sprawling, forested grounds of the estate. The night was pitch-black, illuminated only by the faint silver moonlight reflecting off the pine trees and the sweeping glare of the perimeter security lamps.
"How did they get past the county road?" Nico asked, his voice chillingly smooth.
"Gavin gave them the transponder codes for the municipal patrol cars," Cassian replied, his jaw set in a hard line. "The lead vehicle is registered to Julian Morello himself. He brought nine men. Heavy body armor, suppressed automatic rifles, breaching charges."
"Julian came in person," Nico said softly. A cold, lethal smile touched the corners of his lips beneath his trimmed beard. "He thought Gavin had already poisoned my daughter and locked my men in the barracks. He thinks he is walking into a funeral to collect an inheritance."
"The perimeter team is waiting for your order, Don Ferrante," Cassian said, checking the action on his submachine gun. "Do we engage them at the tree line?"
Nico turned his back to the window, his eyes locking onto the glass doors of the operating room where the surgeon's scalpel was already moving.
"No," Nico murmured, the controlled pauses between his words stretching like execution ropes. "Open the main driveway gates. Let them drive all the way onto the circular drive."
May you like
Cassian blinked in surprise. "Sir? That puts them right beneath the residential balconies."
"A wolf does not chase rats into the woods, Cassian," Nico said, unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling his crisp white sleeves up over his muscular, scarred forearms. "You let them walk into the parlor. Then you lock the doors."
