Chapter 15 - An unwelcome guest
Before Damiano could issue the command to seize the kitchen staff, the manor’s intercom system buzzed with sharp static, followed by the breathless voice of Luca, the chief of perimeter security. "Don Moretti, we have a breach of protocol at the main gate. A convoy of three black armored limousines just pulled past the outer sensors. They aren't firing. They’re flying the diplomatic council flag. It’s Don Antonio Castiglione himself. He claims he is here to collect what has belonged to his family for twenty-five years."
Damiano didn't flinch. He looked down at Sophia, who was trembling with fury and dread beside him. The fragile, timid maid who had spent months bowing her head and scrubbing marble floors seemed to dissolve beneath the surface of her mother’s fierce heritage. She wiped the tears from her face, her jaw setting into a hard, unyielding line. "Emma stays down here under maximum guard," Sophia said, her voice steady and resolute for the first time. "And I am coming upstairs with you." Damiano raised an eyebrow in silent respect before unholstering a small, pearl-handled semi-automatic firearm from his shoulder harness and pressing it firmly into her hands. "Take the safety off only when you intend to kill," he said softly.
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The grand foyer, where Isabella Romano had once staged her pathetic framing scheme months ago, was now lined with twenty heavily armed Moretti enforcers, their rifles leveled at the heavy oak front doors. When the doors swung open, an elderly man with silver hair combed neatly back, dressed in an immaculate bespoke charcoal three-piece suit, stepped across the threshold. Antonio Castiglione leaned lightly on a gold-topped cane, his sharp, predatory eyes sweeping across the room until they landed squarely on Sophia standing at Damiano’s right shoulder. A cruel, triumphant smile crept across the old Don’s withered lips.
"Look at you," Antonio spoke, his voice dry like dead leaves crumbling underfoot. "Vincenzo thought he could burn your mother’s heritage to ash and bury the secret beneath this vulgar mansion. But blood always calls to blood, doesn't it, young lady?" He turned his icy gaze toward Damiano. "Step aside, Moretti. The girl and her child belong to the southern treaty. You have no legal or syndicate authority over them. Hand them over tonight, or the five allied families will reduce this mountain to scorched earth before dawn."
