Chapter 9
Domenico’s blood ran cold. The note on the seating card was a taunt. A psychological game designed by someone who was intimately familiar with his security protocols. 'Look out the window.'
Domenico stood up slowly, the seating card crushed in his fist. He turned his head toward the massive, floor-to-ceiling glass windows that lined the eastern wall of the ballroom. The bright, natural cinematic light was beginning to shift, casting long, dramatic shadows across the manicured lawns of the Valenti estate.
He walked toward the glass, his deeply masculine face set in a mask of rigid, terrifying focus. He looked out over the gardens. The guests, entirely oblivious to the chaos inside, were mingling near the fountains, drinking champagne and waiting for the delayed ceremony to begin.
"Clear the gardens," Domenico ordered the men behind him, his voice dangerously low. "Move every single guest into the underground bunker. Now."
"Boss, the guests—"
"Do it now!" Domenico roared, his composure finally cracking.
As the bodyguards sprinted out to the gardens to initiate the emergency evacuation, Domenico’s eyes scanned the perimeter of the estate. He looked past the fountains, past the hedge mazes, toward the dense tree line that bordered the property.
And then he saw it.
Parked just beyond the wrought-iron gates, partially concealed by the heavy oak trees, was a sleek, unmarked black tactical van. Standing beside the van was a man in a tailored dark suit. The man was holding a high-powered sniper rifle, aiming it directly at the third-floor windows of the estate.
The exact window of the secure suite where Livia was hiding.
"Silvio!" Domenico screamed into his phone, hitting redial frantically. "Get her away from the window! Get Livia into the bathroom! Sniper!"
"Boss, getting her down!" Silvio’s voice cracked through the phone, followed immediately by the terrifying, unmistakable sound of glass shattering.
CRACK.
The sound of the high-caliber sniper round impacting the reinforced glass of the third-floor suite echoed across the estate. The window didn't shatter completely, thanks to the ballistic coating, but a massive, spider-web fracture bloomed across the pane.
"Silvio! Is she hit?" Domenico yelled, his heart stopping in his chest.
"She's fine! She's safe!" Silvio shouted back over the phone, the sound of chaos in the background. "We are in the windowless master bath! They can't get an angle on us!"
Domenico let out a ragged breath. The blackmailer hadn't planned to poison Livia. The note about the poison was a distraction. It was designed to force Domenico to lock his daughter in a secure room. A room with a specific window. The blackmailer had corralled his daughter into a sniper’s crosshairs.
"You set a trap in my house," Domenico whispered, his eyes locking onto the distant figure by the black van.
The sniper didn't run. He slowly lowered the rifle, looking directly at the ballroom window where Domenico stood. The man raised his free hand and gave a slow, mocking salute.
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Domenico Valenti’s face lost all traces of fear. The protective, panicked father vanished, completely replaced by the ruthless, veteran Mafia boss who had slaughtered his way to the top of the American underworld.
"Arm the men," Domenico said to his lieutenant, who had just rushed into the ballroom carrying an assault rifle. "We are going hunting."
