CHAPTER 4 — The Little Witness
CHAPTER 4 — The Little Witness
The mansion erupted into chaos.
Gunfire echoed through the marble halls, shattering chandeliers and sending servants scrambling for cover. Smoke drifted through the east wing as Alessandro burst from the hidden staircase, Lorenzo close behind.
Marco was kneeling behind a stone column, blood staining his shoulder.
"They came through the garden," he shouted. "Professional team. They knew exactly where to strike."
Alessandro scanned the corridor.
Three masked men were retreating toward the rear entrance.
One of them carried a struggling child over his shoulder.
Clara.
"Mama!" she cried, kicking wildly.
Elena's scream pierced the hallway.
"Clara!"
Without hesitation, Alessandro fired.
The first bullet struck the kidnapper's leg.
He collapsed, dropping Clara onto the polished floor.
Before another man could grab her, Alessandro crossed the distance with astonishing speed.
His fist connected with the attacker's jaw.
The man crashed into a marble statue, which toppled and shattered beside him.
Lorenzo and the remaining guards engaged the others.
Within moments, the gunfire ceased.
The surviving attackers lay handcuffed on the floor.
Alessandro ignored them.
He knelt beside Clara.
"Are you hurt?"
The little girl threw her arms around his neck, trembling so hard she could barely speak.
"I... I was scared."
"I know."
His voice, feared by rivals across Sicily, softened unexpectedly.
"They can't take you now."
Elena rushed forward, tears streaming down her face as she gathered Clara into her arms.
For several long moments, mother and daughter simply held each other.
Meanwhile, Lorenzo searched the wounded kidnapper.
He found a burner phone, several bundles of cash...
...and a photograph.
His expression darkened.
"Boss."
Alessandro took the picture.
It showed Elena and Clara leaving a neighborhood grocery store two days earlier.
Someone had been watching them.
On the back, one sentence was written in black ink.
Silence the child first.
The hallway grew colder.
These men hadn't come to steal diamonds.
They had come to eliminate witnesses.
"Bring him to the library," Alessandro ordered, pointing to the wounded kidnapper.
"And the others?"
"The cellar."
No one questioned him.
The prisoners were dragged away.
An hour later, the mansion had fallen eerily quiet.
The police would never be called.
Problems inside the Vitale estate were handled by the Vitale family.
The captured kidnapper sat tied to a heavy wooden chair in the library.
His injured leg had been bandaged.
Not out of kindness.
Alessandro wanted him alive long enough to answer questions.
He placed Bianca's leather notebook on the desk.
"Who hired you?"
The man laughed.
"You already know."
"I want to hear you say it."
Silence.
Alessandro closed the notebook.
"You have one chance."
The prisoner looked directly at him.
"It wasn't about the maid."
"I know."
"It wasn't even about the diamonds."
Alessandro's eyes narrowed.
"Go on."
The man hesitated.
Then he smiled bitterly.
"The little girl heard the wrong conversation."
"What conversation?"
He leaned forward despite the ropes binding him.
"Your fiancée wasn't stealing from you."
Alessandro frowned.
"She was selling you."
The words hung in the room.
"What does that mean?"
The prisoner's smile widened.
"There was a contract."
"A contract?"
"Your enemies pooled their money."
"They couldn't defeat Alessandro Vitale in a war."
"So they decided to buy someone who slept beside him."
Alessandro said nothing.
The man continued.
"Bianca accepted."
Lorenzo's jaw tightened.
"For how much?" he asked.
The answer came without hesitation.
"Twenty million euros."
Even Lorenzo inhaled sharply.
The prisoner looked back at Alessandro.
"She gave them everything."
"Your routes."
"Your security."
"Your trusted men."
"And finally..."
He paused.
"Your wedding date."
The room became deathly still.
The invitation folded inside Alessandro's jacket suddenly felt heavier than iron.
The wedding.
The perfect opportunity.
Every ally gathered in one place.
Every rival knowing exactly where he would be.
It wasn't meant to be a celebration.
It was meant to be a massacre.
At that very moment, upstairs in her private suite, Bianca calmly zipped an expensive suitcase.
She had changed into a dark travel dress.
On the vanity lay several passports under different names.
She glanced once at the clock.
"They're occupied downstairs," she murmured.
"I still have time."
She opened the hidden compartment beneath her jewelry box and removed a flash drive.
Every financial record.
Every payment.
Every betrayal.
With one last look around the luxurious room, Bianca smiled.
"Goodbye, Alessandro."
She stepped into the hallway—
Only to find Alessandro standing there.
Perfectly still.
The white roses he had brought home that afternoon now lay crushed at his feet.
In one hand he held the folded wedding date.
In the other...
Bianca's leather notebook.
"You were leaving," he said quietly.
For the first time since they had met...
May you like
Bianca had no lie ready.
End of Chapter 4
