Chapter 3 - The Trial of the Loyal
I crossed the distance between Dante and me in a fraction of a second.
My fist caught him squarely under the jaw, the force of the blow lifting him off his feet and throwing him into a display of glass vases. The sound of shattering glass filled the air once more as Dante collapsed into the colorful, wet debris, his expensive suit soaked in stagnant water and blood.
Enzo was on his knees, clutching his shoulder, cursing frantically as blood seeped through his fingers.
I stood over him, my chest heaving. I picked up his fallen Beretta, checking the safety before pointing it directly at his forehead.
"Marco, please," Enzo gasped, his bravado completely gone, replaced by the pathetic whimpering of a cornered rat. "We’re family. Blood. Your mother... she wouldn't want this."
"My mother taught me that a traitor in the house is worse than an army at the gates," I said, my voice cold. "You brought this into my house, Enzo. You used my name to terrorize a mother and her child. You broke the only rule that matters: we protect our own."
"She’s not one of ours!" Enzo cried, gesturing wildly toward Sophia, who had collapsed against the wall, her strength spent.
"She is now," I replied.
I didn't pull the trigger. Death was too easy, too quick for what they had done.
"Get up," I ordered them both.
Dante was groaning, pushing himself up from the glass shards, his face cut in a dozen places. The purple ink from his broken fountain pen had leaked into his pocket, spreading across his shirt like a grotesque, spreading bruise.
I pulled out my phone and dialed Luca.
"Boss?" Luca’s voice came through instantly.
"Get the medical van to Wells Street. Secure the shop. And Luca... prepare the basement at Bella Notte. We have guests."
"Understood, Boss. And the little girl?"
"Bring her with you. But don't let her see her mother like this. Keep her in the car."
I hung up and turned to Sophia. I knelt beside her again, gently lifting her head. She was shivering, her skin cold to the touch.
"You're going to be okay, Sophia," I said, my voice softening in a way that would have terrified my enemies. "Your daughter is safe. She came to me. She was very brave."
Sophia’s eyes opened slightly, swelling shut but filled with a fierce, burning light. "She... she found you?"
"Yes," I said. "She found me."
Within ten minutes, three unmarked black vans pulled up to the curb. My men poured out, moving with the silent, lethal efficiency of a well-trained army. They secured the perimeter, lifted Sophia onto a stretcher with the utmost care, and dragged Enzo and Dante out through the back alley, throwing them into the rear of a secure van like sacks of coal.
I walked out to the street.
In the back of Luca’s SUV, a small face was pressed against the glass. Emma.
I opened the door. The interior of the car was warm, smelling of leather and the sweet hot chocolate Luca had apparently bought for her.
"Emma," I said.
She looked at me, her eyes darting to my wet, blood-stained clothes. "Did you find her? Is she okay?"
"We found her," I said, sitting on the edge of the seat so I was at her eye level. "She’s hurt, Emma. The doctors are taking her to a safe place to make her better. But she is alive. And nobody is ever going to hurt her again. Do you believe me?"
Emma looked at me for a long moment. The fear was still there, but beneath it, something else was taking root. Trust.
She nodded slowly. "I believe you. You're the man everyone is scared of."
"I am," I said, offering her a faint, rare smile. "But you never have to be scared of me. Ever."
I closed the door and turned to Luca, who was standing in the rain, his coat drenched.
"Take her to the estate," I commanded. "Put her in the guest wing. Get the house staff to feed her, clean her up, and put her to bed. No one enters that wing without my direct authorization."
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"And the traitors, Marco?" Luca asked, his eyes darkening.
"They’re in the basement," I said, stepping into my own car. "Let’s go hear what else they have to say."
