Chapter 3 - The Midnight Intrusion and the Hidden Vault
By Thursday, the tension between the two properties had stretched to a breaking point. Nia spent her days glancing nervously over her shoulder, convinced she was being watched. Her suspicions weren't unfounded; every time she took Leo out to play, she caught glimpses of movement high up in the mansion's dark windows.
Yet, Thor kept coming back.
Every night at precisely 11:15 PM, the great black dog would slip under the fence, lay a forgotten object on her porch, and sit in silence for five minutes before returning home. By Friday, Nia had collected a green plastic soldier, a polished brass compass, and a silver rattle inscribed with the initials L.R.
"He's giving you a dowry," Zoe joked over lunch, tossing a french fry into her mouth. "The mafia dog wants to marry your toddler."
"It's not funny, Zoe," Nia said, sifting through the objects on her dining table. "Look at this rattle. It’s solid sterling silver. Who buries a silver rattle in their yard?"
"A cartel boss hiding his money?" Zoe offered. "Look, Nia, if I were you, I’d take Leo and spend the weekend at your mom’s. That guy next door—Matteo—he’s giving major do not cross me or you’ll wind up in a cement foundation vibes."
Nia knew Zoe was right, but her stubborn pride refused to give in. She had lived in this house for three years. It was her haven, the only place she had left after her husband had walked out on her during her pregnancy, leaving her with debts and a broken heart. She wasn't going to let some cold-eyed billionaire drive her out.
That night, a thunderous storm rolled over the city. Heavy rain lashed against the windowpanes, and lightning ripped through the ink-black sky. Leo was terrified of thunder; he whimpered in his sleep, clinging to Nia’s shirt as she rocked him in the nursery.
At midnight, a loud CRACK rattled the house—not thunder, but the sound of splintering wood coming from the backyard.
Nia stiffened. She gently laid Leo back down in his crib, grabbed a heavy wooden rolling pin from the kitchen, and crept toward the back patio door.
Outside, floodlights flared across the mansion's courtyard. Shadowy figures were moving fast through the pouring rain. Nia shrank back behind the curtain, her heart hammering against her ribs. Three men in tactical gear were attempting to breach the mansion’s side entrance.
Suddenly, a mass of black fur exploded onto the patio. Thor. The dog launched himself at one of the intruders, his massive jaws locking onto the man's arm with ferocious force. A silenced gun crackled—thwip, thwip—and Thor let out a agonized yelp, collapsing onto the mud.
"No!" Nia gasped, covering her mouth to muffle her scream.
Through the pouring rain, Matteo Rossi stepped onto the balcony above, a sleek black pistol in his hand. He fired three precise shots. The intruders scrambled back over the fence, leaving a trail of blood in the mud as their getaway vehicle roared away down the alleyway.
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Matteo didn't pursue them. He dashed down the spiral stairs, dropping to his knees beside the fallen Cane Corso. For the first time, the cold, emotionless facade cracked. Nia watched through the window as the intimidating man cupped the dog's massive head, his shoulders shaking as he called out to the wounded animal.
Without thinking, driven by an instinct older and stronger than fear, Nia unlocked her patio door and stepped into the storm.
