Chapter 7 - THE TUNNEL BENEATH THE ESTATE
The radio static crackled, loud and sharp in the echoing kitchen.
“Escaped?” Enzo demanded, snatching the radio from Luca. “He’s sixty-two years old and unarmed! How the hell did he kill two of our best men?”
“He wasn't unarmed, sir,” the guard’s voice trembled through the speaker. “He had a ceramic blade hidden in his shoe. Sliced their throats in the stairwell. He’s heading for the old coal tunnels beneath the estate.”
Luca’s face hardened into a mask of pure, lethal determination.
The coal tunnels.
A labyrinth of century-old brick passageways that connected the mansion’s basement directly to the city’s sewer system. If Dominic reached the street, he would disappear into the wind. And worse, he would run straight to the Commission with the forged letter, claiming Luca was illegitimate.
“He’s going for the safe house in the city,” Enzo said, grabbing a spare handgun from his jacket. “If he gets there, he rallies his loyalists. We have a civil war by morning.”
“He’s not getting off this property,” Luca growled.
He turned to me.
“Maria, get your mother upstairs. Lock the door.”
“Mr. Moretti, wait,” I said quickly, my heart pounding.
I knew this estate better than anyone. I cleaned every inch of it. I knew the drafts, the loose floorboards, and the forgotten doors.
“The main tunnel entrance in the basement is blocked by the new HVAC system,” I said. “If Dominic went down the main stairs, he’s trapped in the wine cellar. The only way into the coal tunnels is through the old servant’s hatch in the laundry room.”
Luca stared at me. “Are you sure?”
“I’m the one who sweeps it,” I nodded.
Luca looked at Enzo. “We cut him off at the laundry room.”
Enzo nodded, racking his shotgun. “Let’s go hunting.”
I didn't wait. I pushed my mother’s wheelchair toward the service elevator. “I’m taking her up, then I’m coming with you.”
“No, Maria,” Luca commanded. “You’ve done enough. This is family business now.”
“He tried to kill my mother!” I yelled, the anger finally boiling over. “He stole food from starving children, and he tried to kill my mother! You need someone who knows the dark corners of this house. Let me show you the hatch.”
Luca hesitated, looking at the fierce determination in my eyes. Finally, he gave a curt nod.
Ten minutes later, my mother was safely locked in the east wing, guarded by two loyal men.
I led Luca and Enzo down the narrow, dimly lit service stairs toward the laundry room in the sub-basement. The air smelled of bleach and old damp stone.
We moved in absolute silence.
I pointed to a heavy iron grate set into the floor behind the massive industrial washing machines.
“That’s it,” I whispered. “The hatch.”
The heavy iron lid had been pushed aside.
Dominic was already down there.
Luca signaled for absolute quiet. He drew his weapon and slipped silently down the rusted iron ladder into the darkness. Enzo followed, and I climbed down last.
We were in the coal tunnels. The air was thick, suffocating, and smelled of century-old soot. The only light came from the small flashlights attached to Luca and Enzo’s weapons.
The tunnel was narrow, brick-lined, and echoing.
We heard the frantic splashing of footsteps in the shallow water ahead.
“Dominic!” Luca’s voice boomed through the tunnel, echoing off the wet bricks like thunder. “It’s over! There is nowhere to run!”
The splashing stopped.
Silence stretched in the dark.
Then, Dominic’s voice echoed back. It didn't sound panicked anymore. It sounded calm. Almost amused.
“You were always too emotional, Luca,” Dominic called out from the darkness. “Just like your mother. You rush into the dark without knowing what’s waiting for you.”
Suddenly, the harsh glare of industrial halogen work lights clicked on ahead of us, blindingly bright.
I shielded my eyes.
When my vision adjusted, my blood ran cold.
Dominic wasn't running. He was standing at the end of the tunnel, near the heavy steel grate that led to the city sewers.
But he wasn't alone.
Standing behind him were four men in dark tactical gear, holding assault rifles aimed directly at us.
“You think I didn't plan for contingencies?” Dominic sneered, wiping the blood from his neck. “I’ve been preparing to take this family for twenty years. These men aren't Moretti loyalists. They’re mercenaries. And they are very well paid.”
We were trapped in a narrow tunnel. No cover. No way out.
“Drop the weapons, boys,” Dominic smiled cruelly. “Or die down here in the dirt like rats.”
Enzo gripped his shotgun, his jaw tight. “I’m not dying in a hole, Dominic.”
“Then burn,” Dominic commanded.
The mercenaries raised their rifles.
But before they could pull the triggers, a small, terrifying sound echoed through the tunnel.
Click. Hiss.
A small, heavy metal canister bounced off the brick wall and landed directly at the mercenaries' feet.
Thick, blinding tear gas instantly erupted from the canister, filling the narrow space with a suffocating white cloud.
The mercenaries screamed, dropping their rifles, clawing at their eyes as the gas seared their lungs.
Dominic choked, falling to his knees in the smoke.
I looked behind us.
Climbing down the iron ladder, holding another gas canister, was Evelyn Hayes.
The sixty-year-old nurse had a wet rag tied over her mouth and nose.
“I told you,” Evelyn yelled, her raspy voice echoing through the smoke. “I’ve been watching him for twenty years!”
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Luca didn't waste a second.
He charged through the smoke.
