PART 15 – The Storm Breaks
The pounding on the front door grew louder, followed by a rough, aggressive male voice cutting through the night.
"Open the door! We know you're inside! Hand over the box and the data, and nobody has to get hurt!"
I stiffened. The voice was cold and unfamiliar—not Stefano's own, but one of the mercenaries hired by his network to retrieve the compromising data at all costs before the police could intervene. Vittoria began to cry loudly in my arms, her frightened screams cutting to the bone in the small, dark hallway.
"Go now, Elena!" Luca hissed in a voice that left no room for argument. He stood with his back pressed against the front door, the shotgun held firmly in his hands, ready to defend the entrance if the wood gave way.
With trembling legs and Vittoria pressed tightly against my chest, I ran to the back bedroom. The wooden floor creaked beneath my steps. I found the small, dusty hatch in the corner of the room, pulled it open with all my strength, and carefully lowered myself and Vittoria down into the dark, cool storage cellar. Downstairs it smelled of damp earth and old wooden crates. I pulled the hatch almost completely closed, leaving only a narrow slit of light, and kept my hand firmly over Vittoria's mouth to keep her quiet.
Above me, I heard a deafening bang.
The wood of the front door splintered with a tremendous crash. The mercenaries had forced the door and barged into the house.
"Where are they? Search the whole house!" a voice roared.
Immediately afterwards came the sound of breaking glass, stamping boots, and a short, fierce struggle in the living room. A deep cry of pain and anger echoed through the house—Luca's voice.
My breath caught in my throat. I wanted to run upstairs, wanted to scream, wanted to help him. But I knew if I showed myself, all was lost. Vittoria grabbed my jacket in a panic, her little heart pounding against my hand.
Through the narrow slit of the cellar hatch, I saw a shadow move across the bedroom floor. Heavy footsteps approached the door of the bedroom where we were hiding. A rough hand grabbed the doorknob, and the metal slowly began to turn.
What awaited behind that door would determine not only whether we would survive this night, but also whether the truth about Stefano, the corruption, and our own future would ever see the light of day. The silence in the cellar was suffocating, while the footsteps remained right above our heads.
