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“Good, I’m glad you’re alright,” Niccolo said. “But before we continue, I have some bad news.”
“What?” I asked warily.
“A sniper shot at the house half an hour ago.”
He meant our family’s mansion.
My heart froze in my chest. “Did anyone – ”
“Everybody’s fine. He was using explosive-tipped bullets to get past the bullet-proof glass, but it held – at least for the first shot. Everyone had already scattered by the time the second shot blew out the window.”
“Who was he targeting?”
“Dario, naturally. It could have been a LOT worse – Adriano and Bianca had just returned from a picnic about 20 minutes before it happened. The sniper could have killed them both if he’d run across them.” Niccolo gave a sardonic laugh. “In typical Adriano fashion, he got pissed off about the shooting and said they should have just gone to Crete for their honeymoon – that it would have been safer.”
A shiver ran down my spine. “What about the sniper? Did you kill him?”
“Lars is out looking for him right now with some of the men, and we’re checking all the camera feeds on the estate. But we’ve basically gone to the mattresses.”
‘Going to the mattresses’ was slang for everyone hunkering down with a siege mentality. It came from a family’s foot soldiers dragging all the mattresses in the house into a central room when there was a war going on with a rival.
“Although I guess in our case, we’ve ‘gone to the safe rooms,’” Niccolo joked.
“So maybe not the best idea for me to come home.”
“About that,” Niccolo said grimly. “I also got a call ten minutes ago that your plane got torched.”
“What?!”
“Somebody fired a rocket-powered grenade into the hanger. Fausto’s little mercenaries have been busy.”
“They blew up the Gulfstream?!”
Lucia looked over in alarm.
“They didn’t COMPLETELY destroy it, but it won’t be flying anytime soon. One wing and engine are all fucked up. Luckily Pietro and the crew weren’t aboard when it happened.”
Pietro was our family’s pilot.
“Adriano was pissed about his honeymoon, and now Roberto’s pissed about the plane. He’s currently yelling at the insurance company because they’re claiming our ‘Acts of War and Terrorism’ rider doesn’t cover the situation. What a life.” Niccolo laughed sardonically, then grew serious. “Unfortunately, it means we can’t get you out of Venice anytime soon. Not until I can charter another private plane out of there… and to be honest, I’m not sure THAT’S completely safe. We have no idea who we can trust right now, or if Fausto’s goons will show up with more explosives.”
“Alright… good to know,” I muttered.
“We’ll extract you as soon as we can. In the meantime, do whatever’s necessary to stay safe and keep the Widow on our side.”
“Understood.”
“Call if there are any developments.”
“Tell everyone I’m glad they’re okay.”
“Will do. Stay safe.”
As soon as I hung up, Lucia started peppering me with questions. “What happened?”
“My uncle hired a sniper to try to kill my brother. And they blew up my family’s jet.”
“You have a jet?”
