Chapter 7 - THE SAFE ROOM TRAP
I ran down the narrow spiral staircase leading to the estate's subterranean level, clutching Leo tightly against my chest. Two armed D’Angelo guards sprinted alongside me, their submachine guns raised, scanning every shadowed corner.
The safe room was located behind a hidden oak panel at the end of a long wine cellar. It was a massive, steel-reinforced bunker equipped with biometric locks, air filtration systems, and security monitors displaying live camera feeds from across the estate.
"Inside, Miss Mara! Hurry!" one guard instructed, tapping his thumb against the biometric scanner.
The heavy steel door hissed open.
I stepped inside the brightly lit bunker, holding my breath as the thick door slid shut behind us, locking with a heavy CLANG.
On the central security monitors, I could see chaos unfolding on the estate grounds. Muzzle flashes illuminated the dark woodlands. D’Angelo guards were engaged in heavy gun battles near the front gates with dozens of heavily armed men wearing tactical gear.
In the center monitor, I saw Matteo. He moved like a ghost through the grand foyer, firing with lethal precision, taking down three attackers in seconds. He was a force of nature, protecting his home with terrifying power.
"They're well organized," the guard inside the bunker murmured, monitoring the perimeter screens. "This isn't just a hit squad. This is a full military assault."
Suddenly, the monitor showing the basement hallway went dark—flickering into static.
"What happened to camera four?" I asked, a cold knot tightening in my stomach.
Before the guard could answer, the heavy steel door of the safe room let out a loud, mechanical BEEP. The red lock light flashed blue.
"Wait... someone is overriding the biometric code from the outside!" the guard yelled, raising his weapon toward the door.
The heavy steel door slid open slowly.
Standing in the doorway, framed by the dim light of the wine cellar, was a woman wearing a black tactical suit. Her dark hair was cut short, her face pale, and in her hand, she held an suppressed pistol.
It was Clara.
The exact face I saw in my mirror every morning stared back at me across the threshold.
"Lower your weapons," Clara commanded, her voice cold, smooth, and devoid of any maternal warmth.
The two guards inside hesitated for a fraction of a second, shocked by the sight of their dead mistress. That fraction of a second was fatal.
Pfft! Pfft!
Clara fired twice with terrifying, professional efficiency. Both guards collapsed to the floor instantly.
I let out a suppressed scream, stepping back until my heels hit the central control desk, shielding Leo completely behind my body.
Clara stepped over the bodies, wiping a drop of blood from her cheek, her cold, dark eyes locking onto mine.
"So," Clara said, inspecting me with a chilling, detached curiosity. "You're the cousin. Sophia's little girl."
"Clara..." I whispered, my heart hammering against my ribs so violently I thought it would burst. "You... you're alive."
"Obviously," Clara replied dryly, her gun remaining trained on my chest. "Though I must admit, watching you play house with my husband and my baby over the security feeds was quite entertaining."
"How could you do this?!" I demanded, anger surging through my fear as I felt Leo trembling in my arms. "You abandoned your baby! You let Matteo think you were dead! You let him mourn you for two years!"
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Clara laughed—a cold, bitter, hollow sound.
"I didn't abandon him, sweetie," Clara sneered. "I sold him."
