Chapter 5 - The Wine Cellar
Adrian left two guards to secure Hector Romano and sprinted down the stone steps leading into the subterranean wine cellar. The smell of damp stone, old oak, and copper filled the cold air.
"Bruno!" Adrian shouted, his voice echoing off the vaulted ceilings.
From the far end of the cellar, behind a heavy iron gate used for rare vintages, came a faint, wet thud. It was the sound of a heavy tail striking the floor once, twice. Then, a low, weak whine.
"Bruno!"
Adrian rushed to the cage. Inside, lying on a cold concrete floor, was the massive black mastiff. His heavy head was resting on his paws, his coat smeared with dirt, but his dark eyes brightened instantly as he recognized his master.
Beside the cage stood Valerio—the enforcer with the snake scar across his neck. He was holding a heavy iron rod, his face twisted in a cruel sneer.
"Step back, Moretti," Valerio growled, raising the rod over the defenseless dog. "Or I break his spine right now."
Adrian didn't hesitate for a single microsecond. He didn't drop his weapon; he didn't negotiate.
He raised his pistol and fired a single round through the iron bars. The bullet caught Valerio directly in the shoulder, spinning him around and slamming him against the brick wall. Before Valerio could scream, Adrian kicked the heavy gate off its hinges with a tremendous crash, grabbed Valerio by his throat, and slammed him face-first into the concrete floor.
"You touched my dog," Adrian snarled, placing his heavy boot on Valerio’s neck, applying pressure until the man gasped for air. "You touched the only thing in this world that never lied to me."
Adrian kicked the enforcer unconscious, then immediately dropped to his knees beside Bruno.
The giant mastiff let out a deep, rumbling sigh and pushed his wet nose against Adrian’s neck, licking his cheek weakly. Adrian wrapped his arms around the dog’s massive neck, burying his face in his dark fur.
"I got you, boy," Adrian whispered, his voice thick with uncharacteristic emotion. "I got you. You're going home."
May you like
Marco ran down the cellar stairs, stopping when he saw the scene. He let out a breath of relief. "He okay, Boss?"
"He’s sedated and bruised, but he’s alive," Adrian said, lifting the heavy hundred-and-fifty-pound dog into his arms with absolute determination. "Get the cars ready. We're going back to Long Island. And bring Hector with us."
