Chapter 3 - Shattered Glass
The sound of shattering glass tore through the quiet estate like a gunshot, shattering the fragile tension inside Dominic’s office.
Isabella reacted on pure maternal instinct. She didn't wait for permission, she didn't hesitate; she spun around and bolted toward the heavy oak doors, flinging them open. Dominic was right behind her, his calm demeanor evaporating into lethal, predator-like focus in a fraction of a second.
"Stay behind me," Dominic ordered, his voice dropping into a tone so cold and commanding it made the hair on Isabella’s arms stand up.
They sprinted down the corridor toward the sunroom. When they burst through the double doors, the scene before them made Isabella’s blood run cold.
The large, floor-to-ceiling glass panel facing the eastern courtyard was completely shattered, a massive spiderweb of cracks surrounding a jagged hole right in the center. Shards of glass glittered across the Persian rug like diamonds. In the corner of the room, Leo was huddled over Lily, shielding her small body with his own back, his breathing ragged and panicked.
Standing near the broken window was a large, dark-feathered crow—or rather, what was left of it. But it wasn't a bird that had caused the damage. Embedded deep in the wooden frame just inches above Leo’s head was a heavy, three-inch steel throwing knife, its black-coated blade still vibrating from the impact.
Dominic moved with terrifying speed. In less than a second, he crossed the room, grabbing the knife by the hilt, wrenching it free from the wood, and scanning the courtyard outside through the shattered glass. His face had gone entirely white, drained of all color, replaced by the mask of a seasoned killer preparing for war.
"Daddy!" Lily cried out, finally bursting into tears as Leo helped her to her feet.
Isabella rushed past Dominic, dropping to her knees and sweeping both children into her arms, pulling them tight against her chest. "Are you okay? Did either of you get cut? Look at me, babies, are you hurt?"
"We're okay, Mommy," Leo whispered, his voice trembling violently as he buried his face against Isabella’s shoulder. It was the first time the boy had ever initiated physical contact with her, clinging to her like she was his only anchor in a storm.
Dominic stood over them, the throwing knife clutched so tightly in his fist that his knuckles turned stark white. He inspected the weapon, his eyes narrowing as he spotted a small, embossed symbol near the base of the blade—a coiled viper with a crown.
The Silver Viper Syndicate.
Old enemies. A rival faction from the South End that Dominic thought he had eradicated two years ago.
"Get them to the panic room in the basement," Dominic commanded, his voice dead, devoid of any human emotion, replaced entirely by the ice-cold executioner. "Now, Isabella."
"No!" Isabella cried, looking up at him with fierce defiance, her eyes blazing through her tears. "I am not hiding in a basement like a rat! Look at Leo! He’s terrified! We need to get out of this house, Mr. Moretti. This place is a war zone!"
"This house is the safest fortress in the city," Dominic snarled, his patience snapping as he crouched down to her eye level, grabbing her by the shoulders. His grip was firm, urgent, but not bruising. "Listen to me, Isabella. If you leave these gates right now, you are dead. Both of you. They sent a message. They know Leo was in the sunroom at this exact hour. That means there is a leak. Someone inside my inner circle betrayed me."
The words hung in the air like poison gas.
A leak. A traitor among the guards, the staff, or the advisors.
Leo lifted his head from Isabella’s shoulder, his young eyes wide with a terrifying maturity that no eight-year-old should ever possess. "It was Uncle Marcus, wasn't it?" Leo whispered, his voice shaking. "He was asking me yesterday what time we play in the sunroom."
Dominic’s breath hitched. Marcus—his second-in-command, a man he had trusted with his life for over a decade.
"Go to the basement, Isabella," Dominic said, his voice dropping into an absolute, unyielding command. He reached out, his hand gently brushing a stray lock of hair from Isabella’s forehead—a touch so tender it completely clashed with the violent chaos surrounding them. "Trust me. I will not let anything happen to you. Or my son."
Before Isabella could argue further, the heavy security alarms throughout the estate began to wail, flashing a strobing red light across the shattered glass and polished floors. Armed guards in tactical gear came rushing down the corridor, shouting into their radios.
Dominic stood up, pulling his jacket tight, his eyes locking onto one of the head security officers. "Lock down the perimeter. Find Marcus. Bring him to me alive."
"Yes, Mr. Moretti!" the guard barked, signaling the team to fan out across the estate.
Dominic looked back at Isabella one last time before turning toward the courtyard doors, disappearing into the chaos of the hunt.
Isabella grabbed Leo’s hand and scooped Lily up into her arms, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm as she followed a secondary security guard down the hidden staircase toward the subterranean safe room. But as the heavy steel door of the bunker slid shut behind them, sealing them away from the rest of the world, Isabella realized a terrifying truth:
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The war had come to their doorstep. And there was no turning back.
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