Chapter 6 - The Blood on the Floor
6 - 15
The acrid smell of cordite and fresh blood filled the opulent nursery, turning the sterile, museum-like room into a visceral crime scene. Matteo lowered his smoking pistol slowly, his dark eyes scanning the shadows of the room to ensure there were no other hidden threats before stepping across the threshold.
His gaze landed on Liana, who was still shielding nine-month-old Nico against her chest with trembling arms. Despite the terror of the past few minutes, the baby was still fast asleep, lulled by the familiar warmth of the woman holding him.
Matteo holstered his weapon with a sharp, practiced click. He crossed the carpet in two long strides, ignoring the pool of dark blood spreading from the dead intruder’s head, and stopped inches away from Liana.
"Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice low and devoid of its usual arrogant sting, carrying instead an intense, vibrating concern that seemed entirely out of place for a ruthless mafia lord.
"No," Liana whispered, her breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps as the adrenaline crash finally began to hit her nervous system. "I’m... I’m not hurt. But he had a key, Matteo. He knew about the hollow in the crib. He knew everything."
Matteo’s jaw hardened into granite. He knelt beside the dead intruder, hooked his fingers into the edge of the balaclava, and ripped it downward in one violent motion.
The face revealed beneath the mask made Matteo’s breath catch in his throat.
It wasn't a low-level foot soldier. It wasn't an outsider or a rival syndicate mercenary.
It was Viktor—Matteo’s own head of logistics, a man who had served the Varric family for fifteen years, sat at the right hand of Matteo’s father, and managed every supply line from Palermo to the local docks.
"Viktor," Matteo breathed, the name tasting like poison on his tongue. He stared down at the dead traitor with a look of such profound, cold fury that even the air in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. "Fifteen years... and you sold us out to the highest bidder."
Liana stared at the corpse, her mind racing back to her conversation at the hospital. "He wasn't just working for a rival syndicate, Matteo. He was the one who orchestrated the swap at St. Jude’s twenty-two days ago. He had the clearance. He had the access. He knew how to get inside the maternity ward without triggering alarms."
Matteo stood up slowly, towering over her. His black eyes shifted from the dead man back to Liana’s face, narrowing with an intense, analytical focus that made her skin prickle.
"How do you know so much about the St. Jude’s maternity ward swap, Liana?" Matteo asked quietly, stepping closer until she could feel the heat radiating from his broad chest. "You spoke about it earlier with a certainty that went far beyond mere guesswork. You weren't just describing a hypothetical crime. You were describing your own life."
Liana swallowed hard. The secret she had guarded with her very soul—the grief that had driven her to take a job scrubbing floors in a mafia stronghold—was right on the edge of the cliff. If she told him the truth, would he protect her as the mother of his child, or would he eliminate her as a loose end in a very dangerous criminal chess match?
Before she could form a reply, heavy footsteps thundered up the grand staircase outside.
Marco burst into the nursery, rifle raised, flanked by two armed guards. He took one look at the corpse on the floor, then at Matteo, and finally at Liana holding the baby.
"Boss! The perimeter is secure," Marco reported, breathing heavily. "The remaining mercenaries broke through the eastern fence, but our backup intercepted their extraction vehicle in the alley. Two captured, three neutralized. The house is locked down."
Matteo didn't take his eyes off Liana. He raised one hand lazily to signal Marco.
"Good," Matteo said smoothly, his voice dropping an octave as he reached out and gently brushed a stray lock of hair away from Liana’s forehead. "Lock down the entire second floor. Nobody leaves. And Marco?"
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"Yes, Boss?"
"Bring me the master birth records from St. Jude’s Hospital for the past twelve months. I want every file decrypted, cross-referenced, and sitting on my desk by sunrise."
