Chapter 7 – The Blackout

Pitch black.

The entire mansion lost power in a fraction of a second.

Chaos erupted instantly.

“Don’t shoot!” Carmine screamed in the dark. “You’ll hit the boy!”

But Matteo didn’t hesitate. In the darkness, he was a predator in his own domain.

I felt a strong hand grab my waist and violently pull me backward, pulling me out of Carmine’s grip.

A suppressed gunshot pfft echoed, and a heavy body hit the floor beside me.

“Stay down, Grace,” Matteo whispered in my ear.

More gunshots rang out—loud, chaotic flashes of muzzle fire illuminating the room for brief milliseconds.

In the strobe-light effect of the gunfire, I saw Matteo moving with terrifying precision. He wasn’t using a gun. He was using a heavy silver steak knife from the dining table.

Two Moretti guards fell.

“Get the lights back on!” Carmine roared in a panic.

I crawled across the floor, feeling the expensive rug tearing my knees. My hands scrambled in the dark until I felt small, trembling shoulders.

It was Leo.

I pulled the little boy into my chest, wrapping my arms tightly around him. “I’ve got you,” I whispered, pressing his face into my shoulder so he wouldn’t see the flashes of light. “You’re safe.”

“I want my mom,” Leo cried softly.

Suddenly, emergency backup lights kicked on, bathing the room in a dim, eerie red glow.

The scene was devastating.

Four Moretti guards were unconscious or bleeding on the floor.

Matteo stood in the center of the room, breathing heavily, the silver knife dripping onto the rug.

But Carmine wasn’t defeated.

He was standing near the fireplace, holding Andrew in a chokehold, his pistol pressed hard against Andrew’s temple.

Victoria was on her knees, screaming.

“Drop the knife, Matteo!” Carmine barked, his face covered in sweat. “Drop it, or I blow his brains out!”

Matteo didn’t drop the knife. He stared at Carmine with dead eyes.

“You’re trapped, Carmine,” Matteo said. “The panic button didn’t just cut the lights. It sealed the mansion. Steel shutters are down on every window and door. You can’t leave.”

Carmine’s eyes darted toward the windows. Heavy steel plates had indeed descended over the glass.

“I’ll kill him!” Carmine screamed, his hand shaking.

Andrew looked at me, then at his sister. His face was bruised, but his eyes were strangely calm.

“Don’t let him take the money, Matteo,” Andrew said softly.

“Shut up!” Carmine struck Andrew’s head with the gun barrel.

I couldn’t watch this anymore.

I carefully let go of Leo and stood up.

I reached into my apron pocket.

“Carmine,” I said, my voice cutting through the tension.

He looked at me.

I held up the torn pieces of paper that Victoria had ripped up hours ago—the speech Andrew had tried to read.

“You think you’re so smart,” I said, my heart pounding. “But you made a mistake.”

Carmine frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“The offshore account,” I lied, praying my bluff would work. “When I found this speech in the trash earlier today, I saw the account numbers scribbled on the back. Andrew didn’t know what they were. But I memorized them.”

Carmine’s grip on Andrew loosened slightly. “You’re lying.”

“Am I?” I asked. I read off a random string of numbers. “Four, eight, two, nine…”

Carmine hesitated, trying to remember his own account routing number.

That one second of hesitation was all Matteo needed.

Matteo threw the heavy silver knife.

It flew across the room and embedded itself deep into Carmine’s shoulder.

Carmine screamed, dropping the gun.

Andrew immediately spun around and delivered a brutal right hook to Carmine’s jaw, knocking the older man out cold on the floor.

The room fell violently silent, save for the hum of the red emergency lights.

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