Chapter 8 - The Confrontation in the Nursery
Inside the reinforced nursery, Hunter stood behind the mahogany crib, holding Leo in one arm and gripping the heavy brass fireplace poker in her other hand. Her breathing was shallow, her eyes fixed on the reinforced steel door.
Bip-bip-bip.
The keypad outside flashed green.
Hunter braced herself, raising the heavy poker above her shoulder, ready to strike whatever came through that door.
The heavy steel door swung inward.
It wasn't an assassin. It wasn't a Moretti soldier.
It was Tommy Vance.
He looked disheveled, his eyes bloodshot and wide with manic desperation, a cheap revolver clutched in his trembling right hand. He spotted Hunter across the room, and a twisted, triumphant grin spread across his face.
"There you are, you little bitch," Tommy slurred, stepping into the nursery and sweeping the gun toward her. "Hiding in a billionaire's mansion while I've been hunting all over the city for you! Where's the money? Where's the cash you stole from me?"
"Tommy, get out of here," Hunter said, her voice shaking but her grip on the poker steady. "You don't know what you've walked into. You need to leave right now."
"Shut up!" Tommy screamed, taking another step forward, his eyes locking onto the baby bundled in Hunter's arms. "What's that? Is that... is that a kid? Whose kid are you nursing, Hunter? You playing mommy with some rich guy's brat while I'm starving?"
"Step away from her," a voice echoed from the doorway.
Tommy spun around, dropping his aim just an inch as Lorenzo Rossi stepped casually into the nursery. Lorenzo wasn't running. He walked with the slow, terrifying confidence of an apex predator closing in on wounded prey. His hands were empty, but the sheer aura of absolute death radiating from him made Tommy stumble backward.
"Stay back! I've got a gun!" Tommy shrieked, swinging the revolver toward Lorenzo's chest. "I'll blow his head off! I'll kill the kid!"
Lorenzo stopped dead in his tracks. His dark eyes flicked from the barrel of the cheap gun to Tommy’s sweaty, shaking fingers.
"You can try," Lorenzo said softly, his voice carrying a lethal stillness that froze the room. "And within three seconds, my men will turn you into fertilizer beneath these cliffs. But before you pull that trigger, you need to understand something."
"Shut up! Shut up!" Tommy yelled, his finger tightening on the trigger.
"You pushed the mother of my son down a flight of stairs," Lorenzo continued, taking one slow step closer. "You threatened what belongs to the Rossi family. And you thought you could walk into my house and walk out alive."
Before Tommy could pull the trigger, a dark blur flashed past the doorway. Mateo slammed into Tommy from behind like a freight train, driving him hard against the reinforced steel door. The cheap revolver went flying across the marble floor with a metallic clatter. Tommy let out a choked gasp as Mateo’s forearm pinned his throat against the wall, dislocating his shoulder with a sickening pop.
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"Clear," Mateo grunted, holding the sobbing, broken man upright with one hand.
Lorenzo didn't even look at Tommy as he was dragged out into the hallway. Instead, Lorenzo walked straight toward Hunter, stopping just inches away. He reached out, his hand gently taking the heavy fireplace poker from her trembling grip and setting it aside.
