Chapter 8 - THE NIGHT THE ESTATE BURNED
The estate evacuation began at once.
Staff members moved through the eastern gates.
Federal bomb technicians entered the chapel.
Alejandro refused to leave until every employee had been counted.
Gabriel found Mariana and Emma near the servants’ staircase.
Emma carried her rabbit backpack.
“Where is Mr. Moretti?” she asked.
“Still inside.”
Mariana looked toward the smoke rising behind the chapel.
A fire had started beneath the west wing.
Salvatore had ignited part of the explosive system remotely.
The first blast destroyed the greenhouse.
Windows broke across the estate.
Alejandro emerged from the ballroom carrying an injured cook.
He handed the man to paramedics.
Then he returned toward the building.
Mariana caught his sleeve.
“What are you doing?”
“Marco is missing.”
“Let the agents find him.”
“He was last seen near the study.”
“You cannot save every person personally.”
Alejandro looked toward Emma.
The child stood beside the ambulance watching the fire.
“She did.”
“No.”
Mariana shook her head.
“She made one choice.”
“Doctors saved you afterward.”
“Police followed the evidence.”
“Do not turn her into an excuse to run into every flame.”
The words stopped him.
Alejandro gave Ruiz Marco’s last location.
A tactical team entered.
They found Marco unconscious inside the study.
Salvatore had struck him and left him beside the wine-stained rug.
The broken camera still blinked.
Agents carried Marco out.
Then another explosion struck beneath the library.
Fire moved through the walls.
The Moretti estate had been designed like a fortress.
Its hidden tunnels turned it into a furnace.
Salvatore appeared on a security camera beneath the chapel.
He held the central detonator.
Ruiz established a connection through the old intercom.
“Salvatore.”
Alejandro’s voice echoed below.
“You destroyed the succession trust.”
“You gave the legal companies to employees.”
“You handed our records to the government.”
“You erased your own family.”
“No.”
“I stopped letting the family own everyone inside it.”
Salvatore lifted the detonator.
“I will leave you nothing.”
“You already took what mattered.”
The reference to Kiara changed Salvatore’s face.
He pressed the switch.
Nothing happened.
The bomb team had disconnected the main circuit.
Salvatore pressed it again.
Ruiz’s officers entered the tunnel.
He drew a gun.
Marco’s voice came through the intercom from the ambulance.
“Father, stop.”
Salvatore turned toward the speaker.
That hesitation allowed agents to restrain him.
He fought until they pinned his face against the chapel floor.
The estate continued burning above him.
By sunrise, the west wing had collapsed.
The private study was gone.
The wine-stained rug burned with it.
The hidden camera server survived inside a fireproof vault.
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Salvatore’s empire had attempted to destroy the evidence.
The evidence outlived the house.
