Chapter 3 - What the Shadows Saw
At two o’clock that afternoon, Emma had been sitting quietly in the alcove behind the heavy velvet curtains of the second-floor library. Her mother had instructed her to stay out of sight while the mansion was placed on lockdown for the evening summit. Emma had been coloring quietly, her bunny tucked under her arm, when she heard the faint click of the heavy oak doors to Don Moretti’s private study.
Nobody was allowed inside that study. Anyone caught trespassing faced immediate death.
Curious, Emma peeked through the slit in the velvet drapes. She expected to see Don Moretti’s imposing figure. Instead, she saw Isabella Romano gliding into the room, constantly looking over her bare shoulder.
A second later, a man slipped in behind her. He wasn't one of Damiano’s trusted soldiers. He wore unmarked black tactical gear, leather gloves, and a ski mask pulled down over his chin.
Emma had held her breath, clutching her bunny’s ear tightly.
"Hurry up, you idiot," Isabella had whispered in a harsh, frantic hiss. "Damiano and the five syndicate heads will be sitting at that exact mahogany table at eight-thirty sharp to sign the ceasefire treaty. It has to go off before nine."
The masked man had pulled a heavy, rectangular black box from his vest. It had two thick metal clamps and a tiny glass display emitting an eerie crimson glow. He crawled beneath the heavy mahogany desk, clicked the device onto the iron support beam beneath Damiano’s leather chair, and stood up.
"It’s armed," the man whispered. "Remote frequency blocked. The moment the clock strikes eight-fifty, the pressure plate arms. Once they stand up, the whole east wing collapses."
"Good," Isabella sneered, smoothing her silk blouse. "By tomorrow morning, Damiano Moretti is ashes, and the Romano family rules the entire coast."
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👉 *Emma had memorized every single word, but she was only six years old and had no idea what kind of monster was walking among them.*
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