Chapter 3 - The Blood on the Roses
The remaining two Rossi men turned their weapons toward Alessandro, firing wildly in a desperate panic.
Bullets tore through the rose bushes, shredding leaves and shattering marble statues around the courtyard.
Alessandro didn't flinch; he didn't seek cover. He simply raised his rifle and fired two precise, deadly shots.
Both men dropped instantly, their bodies disappearing into the manicured hedges.
The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the distant sounds of Marco’s men securing the front gates.
Alessandro lowered his weapon and walked slowly toward the edge of the woods, his eyes fixed on the massive black dog.
Bruno was still standing defensively over Emma, his breathing heavy, his yellow eyes tracking Alessandro’s every move.
“It’s okay, Bruno. It’s over,” Alessandro said quietly, slinging the rifle over his shoulder.
Emma was huddled on the grass, her hands covering her ears, crying softly.
Alessandro knelt beside her, a strange, unfamiliar sensation tightening his chest.
“Are you hurt, Emma?” he asked, his voice softer than it had been in decades.
She looked up, her small face streaked with tears and dirt, and shook her head.
“Loud noises,” she whimpered, reaching her arms out toward him.
Alessandro hesitated for a fraction of a second before gently picking the small child up and holding her against his tactical vest.
He expected Bruno to growl, to protect the child from him, but the massive dog simply leaned his heavy head against Alessandro’s leg.
It was a silent acknowledgment, a truce forged in the fires of shared violence.
Alessandro carried Emma back to the main house, Bruno limping faithfully at his side, leaving the dead men bleeding into the roses.
When he entered the kitchen, Sophia practically flew across the room, snatching Emma from his arms and holding her desperately tight.
“Thank you,” Sophia sobbed, burying her face in Emma’s messy curls. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
Alessandro watched them, his face impassive, but his mind racing with a terrifying new reality.
The Rossi family had crossed a line that could never be uncrossed; they had brought violence to his home, threatening the only innocence that existed within it.
“Pack your things,” Alessandro ordered, looking at Sophia with cold intensity.
Sophia froze, her heart dropping. “Are you firing me?”
“No,” Alessandro replied, his tone leaving no room for argument.
“I am moving you into the main house. The guest house is no longer secure.”
“Mr. Moretti, that isn't necessary, we can just—”
“It wasn't a request, Mrs. Carter,” Alessandro interrupted, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.
“As long as that dog considers your daughter his priority, I cannot guarantee her safety out there.”
“You will sleep in the east wing, near my quarters. Marco will move your belongings within the hour.”
He turned and walked out of the kitchen, his boots crunching on the broken glass, preparing to unleash hell upon the Rossi family.
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Sophia stood completely still, clutching her daughter, realizing that her simple life was over.
She was no longer just the maid; she and her daughter had just been placed under the personal, terrifying protection of the most dangerous man in Chicago.
