Chapter 3 - The Ambush
Three weeks passed. Clara became the ghost of the Rossi estate. She glided through the halls, entirely focused on Leo. The men who guarded the house—hardened criminals, enforcers, killers—slowly began to lower their heads respectfully when she walked by. She wasn't just the nanny; she was the woman who had brought peace to the boss's son.
But peace in the underworld is always temporary.
It happened on a Tuesday afternoon. Clara was in the sunroom reading to Leo when the perimeter alarms shrieked. The sound of shattered glass was immediately followed by the deafening crack of automatic gunfire.
"Get down!" a guard yelled, rushing into the room just as a spray of bullets tore through the plaster wall.
Clara didn't scream. Survival instinct, dormant since the loss of her own child, violently resurrected itself. She grabbed Leo, diving behind a solid marble bookshelf as the guard returned fire. The estate was under attack by the Marzano family—Dante’s oldest rivals.
Footsteps crunched on the glass. A hitman in a tactical mask stepped into the sunroom, his rifle scanning the rubble. He saw Clara curled around the baby. He raised his weapon.
Clara didn't beg. She grabbed the heavy brass fire poker from the hearth, and as the man stepped forward, she swung it with every ounce of her desperate, maternal rage, shattering his knee. As he collapsed, Dante burst into the room, his white shirt stained with blood, a gun in each hand. He put two rounds into the hitman’s chest without blinking.
Dante dropped his weapons and fell to his knees beside Clara. "Are you hurt? Is he hurt?"
May you like
"We're fine," Clara gasped, her hands shaking as she shielded Leo.
Dante looked at the blood on the fire poker, then at Clara’s fierce, protective eyes. In that moment, the dynamic shifted. She wasn't an employee anymore. She was family.
