“Not yet.”
Marcus’s voice hardened.
“Elena.”
“I know you’re in there.”
Silence.
Then—
Bang!
The closet door exploded inward.
Wood splintered across expensive suits.
Marcus raised his pistol.
His smile vanished.
“…Uncle.”
For one endless second…
Nobody moved.
Marcus looked from Vincent…
To Elena…
To the gun in Vincent’s hand.
Then everything erupted.
Gunfire shattered mirrors.
Glass exploded across the bedroom.
Vincent shoved Elena behind him as bullets ripped through hanging jackets.
Marcus dove behind the bed.
Two gunmen rushed forward.
Vincent fired twice.
Years of instinct never disappeared.
Both men collapsed before they reached the closet.
Marcus fired back.
The bullet grazed Vincent’s shoulder.
Elena pulled him toward the hidden wall behind the suits.
“Here!”
She pressed a small brass hook.
Click.
A section of the wall slid open.
Vincent stared.
“A tunnel?”
She nodded.
“I found it during renovations.”
“You never told anyone?”
“I hoped I’d never need to.”
They disappeared into darkness just as another burst of bullets tore through the closet.
Marcus screamed after them.
“Seal every exit!”
“They can’t leave this house alive!”
The tunnel smelled of damp concrete and forgotten history.
Emergency lights flickered overhead.
Vincent walked quickly despite the blood soaking his sleeve.
Elena stayed beside him.
“You built this?”
“My grandfather did.”
“For war.”
“No one alive should know it exists.”
She glanced sideways.
“Marcus didn’t.”
Vincent’s expression darkened.
“Which means we still have one advantage.”
Behind them came distant footsteps.
“They’re following.”
“They found another entrance.”
Vincent nodded.
“They always would.”
The tunnel forked.
Left led toward the river.
Right toward the old wine cellar.
Elena grabbed his arm.
“River.”
Vincent didn’t move.
“No.”
“They’ll expect us to run.”
Instead…
He smiled.
A smile so cold Elena almost didn’t recognize him.
“They’ve spent months planning how to kill Vincent Torino.”
“They’ve forgotten one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“They’re still inside my house.”
Part 3 – Ending
Marcus entered the underground control room beneath the mansion.
It was empty.
“No sign of them.”
He slammed his fist against a steel cabinet.
“They couldn’t disappear.”
One surviving gunman looked nervous.
“What if they escaped?”
Marcus shook his head.
“No.”
“The exits are covered.”
“They’re trapped.”
A voice echoed through the speakers overhead.
“No.”
Marcus froze.
Vincent.
Calm.
Clear.
Every monitor suddenly came alive.
Marcus stared.
Every hidden camera in the mansion was active again.
His own face appeared on twelve screens.
Behind him…
The remaining gunmen looked around in panic.
Marcus whispered,
“…Impossible.”
Vincent’s voice echoed again.
“You disabled the visible security system.”
“You never found the real one.”
Marcus slowly turned.
Hidden steel doors slammed shut around the underground room.
One.
Two.
Three.
Every exit locked.
“What did you do?”
Vincent answered without emotion.
“My grandfather trusted nobody.”
“So he built one final safeguard.”
Marcus fired at the doors.
Nothing happened.
Bullets sparked harmlessly against reinforced steel.
Then gas hissed softly from vents above.
The gunmen coughed.
Marcus covered his mouth.
