Chapter 6 - The Siege of the Estate
The sound of shattering glass from the foyer echoed all the way up to the east wing. Shouts and the thunderous exchange of gunfire erupted downstairs, turning the luxurious Moretti mansion into a literal war zone.
“Emma! Get under the bed right now!” Mama screamed, bursting into the playroom. Her face was stark white, tears streaming down her cheeks as she hauled me toward the heavy oak bed frame and shoved me underneath alongside my stuffed rabbit.
“Mama, come with me!” I cried, reaching out my small hand.
“I’m going to lock the door, baby. Don't make a sound, no matter what you hear,” Mama sobbed, kissing my forehead before pulling down the heavy valance to hide me completely.
I curled into a tight ball, clutching my rabbit against my chest as the sounds of battle drew closer. Heavy boots thudded against the hallway floorboards outside our door, accompanied by the sharp, terrifying crack of a rifle firing indoors.
“Clear this wing! Find the girl and her mother—use them as leverage against Moretti!” a harsh, unfamiliar voice barked just outside our door.
My breath hitched in my throat. I squeezed my eyes shut, repeating the words Mama had taught me: Breathe, Emma, just breathe.
Suddenly, the door to our suite was kicked open with a tremendous crash. Splintered wood flew across the floor. Heavy boots stomped into the room, kicking furniture aside.
“Check the closets!”
“Nothing in the bathroom!”
I clamped both hands over my mouth to muffle my whimpers. Through the gap in the bed skirt, I saw a pair of combat boots stop right in front of the bed. The barrel of a submachine gun lowered, poking under the dust ruffle.
My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird.
Click.
The mercenary reached down, his calloused fingers grabbing the edge of the fabric—
Bang!
A deafening roar split the air right outside the bedroom door. The mercenary standing in front of my bed jerked violently, his body going completely limp before he crashed to the floor, knocking over a side table with a loud clatter.
“Clear the corridor!” a deep, gravelly voice thundered through the smoke and dust.
Alejandro Moretti.
His dark wool coat was stained with gunpowder and blood, his face grim and ruthless as he stepped over the fallen mercenary. He held a customized assault rifle in one hand, scanning the room with the deadly precision of a seasoned combat veteran.
His dark eyes immediately locked onto the bed. Dropping to one knee, he whipped the dust ruffle aside.
When his gaze met mine, the terrifying warlord instantly melted away.
“Emma,” he breathed, reaching out with a steady, blood-streaked hand to pull me out from beneath the bed. He scooped me up into his arms, pressing me tightly against his chest, shielding me completely from the carnage around us.
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“Mr. Moretti!” I sobbed, burying my face in his heavy coat.
“I’ve got you, little one,” Alejandro murmured, his voice fierce and unyielding. “No one is going to touch you. I swear it.”
