Chapter 7 - Confrontation in the Study
Lorenzo slipped out of the bunker, moving with the quiet, lethal grace of a predator returning to his domain.
Through the security feed, I watched his progress. He didn't use the main hallways; he used the hidden passages I had mapped out, emerging behind Marco’s remaining loyalists and taking them out swiftly, silently, and ruthlessly.
Ten minutes later, the heavy double doors of the master study slammed open.
Marco and Beatrice spun around, weapons raised—only to freeze in absolute terror.
Lorenzo stood in the doorway. Though pale and bearing the battle scars of the night, his presence dominated the entire room. Behind him stood Capo Valenti and a dozen heavily armed guards, their weapons targeted directly at Marco's chest.
"L-Lorenzo..." Beatrice stammered, turning ghost-white, her hand flying to her throat. "You're... you're alive..."
"Disappointed, Beatrice?" Lorenzo said, his voice icy smooth as he stepped into the room.
Marco’s hands trembled violently as he pointed his revolver at Lorenzo. "Stay back! Step one foot closer and I’ll blow your brains out!"
"You had your shot last night, Marco," Lorenzo said calmly, not even bothering to raise his own weapon. "You missed the heart. A fatal mistake in our line of work."
"Valenti, listen to me!" Marco yelled, looking desperately at the silver-haired capo. "He's unfit to lead! He’s soft! Beatrice and I have the support of the council!"
Valenti didn't even blink. "The council stands with Don Duca. Lower your weapon, Marco, before I paint this antique rug with your brains."
"You have no proof!" Beatrice shrieked, recovering a fraction of her venomous arrogance. "You cannot execute family without proof of treason! The rules of the Duca house demand evidence!"
Lorenzo took a slow step forward, a dark, triumphant smile spreading across his face.
"I was hoping you'd say that, Beatrice," Lorenzo said softly.
He reached into his pocket, pulled out a small black remote, and pressed a button.
From the high-definition speakers installed in the ceiling of the study, a voice suddenly filled the room—crisp, clear, and unmistakable.
"...the will is locked in his safe. Once we produce the body, Beatrice signs as executor. The capos have already been told it was an ambush by a rival syndicate..."
"Make sure the body is found tonight, Marco. We cannot announce his death without a corpse. And clean up the maid staff. I want no loose ends..."*
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Beatrice’s mouth fell open in absolute horror. Marco looked up at the ceiling speakers as if he had just seen a ghost.
"The bunker security system records everything," Lorenzo said coldly. "Every word. Every shadow. Every betrayal."
