Chapter 2 - The West Greenhouse
Vittorio did not look at Sophia when the bell stopped.
Children recognized fear faster than adults recognized lies.
If he looked at her, she would see too much.
He handed the cracked phone to Matteo Rinaldi, his oldest lieutenant, who had arrived in the second car.
“Trace the signal.”
Matteo examined the screen.
“It is bouncing through the estate network.”
“Marco may still be inside the walls.”
Alessio moved toward the sedan.
“We should clear the driveway before the bomb is triggered.”
Vittorio studied him.
“You knew about the bomb before you arrived.”
“I knew Isabella planned something.”
“That is not the same thing.”
“You always did love differences that made you feel intelligent.”
Vittorio ignored him.
He ordered every man away from the car.
A bomb technician from Matteo’s team approached through the eastern gate.
Isabella stepped backward toward the villa.
Sophia pointed at her shoes.
“She has mud on the heels.”
Everyone looked down.
The driveway was dry.
The only wet ground on the estate lay near the west greenhouse, where Renzo watered the orchids before sunrise.
Vittorio turned toward his wife.
“You came from the greenhouse.”
Isabella’s face remained composed.
“I walked through the garden.”
“No.”
Sophia spoke quietly.
“The greenhouse door squeaks.”
“I heard it while she was on the phone.”
Vittorio approached Isabella.
“What is in the greenhouse?”
She looked at Alessio.
That glance told Vittorio more than an answer.
Alessio drew his pistol.
Matteo’s men immediately raised their weapons.
For several seconds, the brothers stood in the center of the driveway while every gun on the property waited for one of them to breathe incorrectly.
Then the bomb technician shouted.
“Device is live.”
“Remote trigger.”
“Less than three minutes on the backup timer.”
Vittorio pointed toward the northern wall.
“Move everyone inside the stone courtyard.”
He took Sophia’s hand.
She resisted.
“My papa is west.”
“We are going west.”
They ran through the lemon garden while the armed men spread across the estate.
The greenhouse stood behind a high hedge.
Its glass walls were clouded with morning condensation.
The door was locked.
Vittorio shot the handle.
Inside, rows of orchids hung from iron frames.
A chair stood in the center.
Rope lay across the seat.
Fresh blood stained the floor.
Renzo had been there.
Sophia found his cap beneath a table.
She pressed it against her chest.
Behind the potting bench, Matteo discovered a trapdoor.
The tunnel below smelled of oil and damp stone.
A distant engine started.
Then the sedan exploded.
The blast shattered every greenhouse window.
Glass rained around them.
Sophia did not scream.
May you like
She looked down into the tunnel.
“My papa is under the house.”
