Chapter 14 - The Midnight Strike
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At 4:00 PM, four hours before the ceremony was scheduled to begin, the trap was officially sprung.
I sat in my study, fully dressed in my custom-tailored black wedding tuxedo. The heavy, soundproof doors were locked. Rocco and Nico stood on either side of my desk, armed to the teeth with suppressed weaponry.
"Carlo Moretti and his hit squad have entered the perimeter," Nico reported, monitoring the thermal cameras on the tablet. "They used the access codes Vivien provided. They are moving through the service tunnels beneath the wine cellar, expecting to ambush you in the dressing room."
"They think they are the hunters," I murmured, checking the heavy .45 caliber handgun resting on my desk. "Let's show them what happens when you step into the lion's den."
I stood up, holstering the weapon beneath my tuxedo jacket.
We moved silently through the hidden corridors of the estate, bypassing the frantic wedding planners and clueless guests arriving in the grand foyer. We descended into the dark, damp catacombs of the wine cellar.
Carlo Moretti and six heavily armed mercenaries were creeping through the stone archways, moving with the quiet precision of professional killers.
They never even saw us coming.
I didn't yell a warning. I didn't announce my presence. I simply raised my weapon and fired.
The suppressed gunshots were no louder than a heavy door slamming shut, but the impact was devastating. Two of Carlo's men dropped instantly, bullets shattering their skulls before they could even raise their rifles.
Rocco and Nico opened fire a split second later, a lethal, synchronized crossfire that tore through the narrow stone corridor.
Carlo shouted in panic, diving behind a massive wooden wine barrel as his men were systematically slaughtered in the dark. The ambush was over in less than thirty seconds.
The silence that followed was broken only by the dripping of shattered wine bottles and the ragged, terrified breathing of Carlo Moretti.
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I walked slowly down the corridor, my expensive leather shoes crunching softly on broken glass. I stepped around the bleeding bodies of the mercenaries and stood over the barrel where Carlo was cowering.
"Hello, Carlo," I said smoothly, aiming my gun directly at his head. "You're a little early for the reception."
