Chapter 9 - The Final Confrontation
"Boss! They breached the western corridor!" Marco yelled over the radio, his breathing heavy as the sound of automatic gunfire echoed in the background. "They're planting explosives on the nursery exterior wall!"
"Hold your ground, Marco! I'm coming!"
I sprinted down the hallway, but before I could reach the western wing, a blinding flash of white light erupted from the nursery exterior. The wall didn't just explode—it shattered inward, sucking the air out of the hallway in a violent vacuum.
A wave of freezing, subterranean air rushed into the house, carrying with it the sickening stench of wet earth and rotted wood. From the gaping hole in the wall, black, smoke-like tendrils poured into the hallway, swirling into monstrous, shifting shapes.
The Salvatore hitmen who had planted the charge screamed as the shadows wrapped around them, lifting them off their feet and draining the life from their eyes before they even hit the floor.
Dante Salvatore himself stepped through the smoke, holding an assault rifle, his face twisted in a manic, triumphant grin.
"End of the line, Adrien!" Dante shouted over the howling wind. "The house claims the Moretti bloodline tonight!"
I raised my pistol, aiming directly at his chest. "You made a fatal mistake, Dante. You brought dark magic into my house. But you forgot one thing."
Dante laughed. "What? Your money? Your guns?"
"No," I said coldly.
From behind me, walking quietly down the corridor through the freezing wind, came four-year-old Sophie. She wasn't crying. She wasn't scared. In her small hands, she held her battered cloth doll high, the button eyes gleaming in the amber emergency light.
Behind Sophie walked Elena, holding a silver antique crucifix she had taken from the chapel.
"What is that brat doing here?" Dante snarled, swinging his rifle toward Sophie.
Before Dante could pull the trigger, Sophie whispered: "Go back to the dark."
She threw her rag doll directly into the center of the swirling mass of shadows.
The moment the doll entered the vortex, a blinding golden light—radiating from the old coin stitched inside its heart—flashed like a star. A piercing, unearthly screech echoed through the mansion, and the black tendrils shattered into millions of sparkling dust motes that vanished into thin air.
The howling wind stopped instantly. The temperature returned to normal.
Dante stared in absolute horror as his supernatural backup evaporated. "No... no! That's impossible!"
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I didn't hesitate. I raised my Sig Sauer and fired a single, precise shot into Dante’s right shoulder, dropping him instantly to his knees.
Marco and three security guards rushed around the corner, instantly pinning Dante to the floor and slapping heavy steel handcuffs on his wrists.
