Chapter 7 - The Gathering Storm
While peace had settled inside the walls of the Moretti estate, outside, a new threat was quietly brewing.
The elimination of the Vale family had left a vacuum in the New York shipping docks. A ruthless Chicago-based syndicate known as the Iron Circle—led by a cold, calculating boss named Victor Vance (no relation to me)—saw an opportunity to seize the East Coast trade routes.
Victor Vance was different from Julian Vale. He didn't make loud threats. He worked in the dark, bribing port authorities and placing hidden explosives on cargo ships.
It was late Thursday evening when Marco burst into Vincent’s private command office near the wine cellar.
“Boss,” Marco panted, holding an encrypted satellite phone. “We have a breach at Port Newark. The Iron Circle just hijacked three of our primary container ships. They’ve taken ten of our crew members hostage.”
Vincent stood up from his desk, his eyes instantly turning into twin pools of liquid ice.
“Where is Victor Vance?” Vincent asked coldly.
“He’s at the Port Newark control tower,” Marco reported. “He sent a message. He said he will execute one hostage every fifteen minutes until you personally deliver the deed to the Moretti shipping lines.”
I stood near the door, having brought Vincent his late-night tea, my hands clutching the silver tray tightly.
“Vincent...” I whispered, fear gripping my heart. “It’s a trap.”
Vincent walked over to me. He took the tray from my hands, set it on the table, and pulled me into his arms.
“I know it’s a trap, Maya,” he murmured, kissing my forehead softly. “Victor thinks because I have a family now, I have grown weak. He thinks I will negotiate.”
He pulled back, looking into my eyes with a fierce, terrifying intensity.
“I am going to show Chicago why no one touches the Moretti name.”
He reached into his desk, pulled out a gold key, and handed it to me.
“This key unlocks the panic suite beneath the nursery,” Vincent instructed. “Take Lily, Enzo, and the nurses down there immediately. Do not open the door for anyone except Marco or me.”
“Promise me you’ll come back,” I begged, clutching his shirt.
May you like
Vincent leaned down, pressing his lips to mine in a deep, burning kiss that filled my soul with warmth and courage.
“I always come back to you, my queen,” he promised.
