Chapter 5 - Red Rain at the Docks
The Chicago riverfront was a wasteland of rusted shipping containers and rotting wood, shrouded in a thick, choking fog that rolled off the lake.
Warehouse Four was a massive, dilapidated structure at the end of the pier. Light leaked from the cracked windows, casting long, eerie shadows across the wet gravel.
Inside, twenty of Valenti’s heavily armed enforcers stood around a makeshift table, drinking cheap whiskey and waiting for the news of my demise. Grigori, the man with the black snake on his neck, stood near the center, bragging to the others about how he had broken Sophia’s Bloom.
"She thought she was special," Grigori laughed, lighting a cigarette. "Thought because she paid her dues to the old man, she was untouchable. I showed her what the new order looks like."
He didn't get to finish his next breath.
The heavy steel doors of the warehouse were suddenly obliterated.
My armor-plated SUV tore through the entrance, scattering splintered wood and concrete dust. Before the dust could settle, the passenger door flew open, and I stepped out, my assault rifle already raised.
The warehouse erupted into a symphony of violence.
The roar of gunfire was deafening, the muzzle flashes illuminating the dark space in staccato bursts of orange and yellow. Valenti’s men scrambled for cover behind shipping crates, but my men were already flanking them, moving with ruthless precision.
I didn't look for cover. I walked straight down the center aisle, my eyes fixed on one man.
Grigori.
The enforcer saw me, his face turning pale as he realized the ghost of Bella Notte was walking toward him. He raised his pistol, but before he could fire, I let loose a burst from my rifle.
The bullets caught him in the shoulder and thigh, sending him crashing into a stack of wooden pallets.
The shootout was over in less than three minutes. My men had secured the warehouse, leaving ten of Valenti’s men dead and the rest disarmed and groveling on the floor.
I walked over to Grigori, who was clutching his bleeding leg, his eyes wide with absolute terror. The black snake on his neck seemed to writhe as his throat bobbed with fear.
"Marco... please..." he gasped. "I was just following orders! Enzo paid me! Dante paid me!"
"I know," I said, looking down at him. "But you enjoyed it."
I leaned down, pressing the hot barrel of my rifle against the black snake tattoo on his neck. He screamed as the heat seared his skin, the smell of burning flesh filling the damp air.
"This is for Sophia," I whispered.
I didn't shoot him. I turned to Luca. "Tie them all up. Leave them for the police. The commissioner owes me a favor. Let him have his big press conference tomorrow. The Valenti family is done in this city."
"And what about Enzo and Dante, Boss?" Luca asked.
"Take them to the state line," I said, my voice devoid of emotion. "Strip them of everything. No money, no clothes, no names. If they ever cross back into Illinois, they die. Let them live as ghosts."
I walked out of the warehouse, the rain finally beginning to clear, revealing a sliver of starlight through the clouds.
May you like
The war was over. The traitors had been purged.
But as I drove back toward the city, my thoughts weren't on the empire I had just saved. They were on a quiet safehouse hospital room, and a little girl waiting for her mother.
