Chapter 7
The hallway outside the east wing was a gallery of violence.
Alessandro moved like a phantom through the shadows, returning fire as four masked mercenaries pushed through the smoke-filled corridor. His rounds were cold, efficient, and lethal. Two men dropped instantly before they could even aim their weapons.
At the end of the hall, Bruno had pinned a third mercenary against the marble wall, his jaws locked around the man's tactical sleeve, thrashing the heavy intruder like a ragdoll.
The fourth man—a tall, heavyset figure wearing a dark coat—managed to slide past the gunfire, heading straight toward the door of Sophia's suite.
He kicked the broken door open, sweeping his flashlight across the empty bedroom.
"Sophia!" a harsh, raspy voice shouted through the darkness. "I know you're in here, you bitch! You thought you could hide from me with a mob boss?"
It was Julian Vance.
Vance stepped into the room, holding a heavy revolver, his face twisted in a psychotic, desperate sneer. He had lost everything—his business, his money, his reputation—and this raid was his final, unhinged act of vengeance.
"Come out!" Vance screamed, shooting a round into the ceiling plaster. "Bring my daughter out, or I burn this fucking house to the ground!"
"She's not your daughter anymore, Vance," a voice spoke cold from the doorway behind him.
Vance spun around wildly, raising his revolver.
BANG.
A single shot rang out. Vance’s revolver flew from his hand as a bullet shattered his wrist. He shrieked in agony, dropping to his knees, clutching his bleeding arm against his chest.
Alessandro stepped into the room. He didn't look rushed. He didn't look wounded. He walked over to Vance, kicking the dropped revolver under the bed, before grabbing Vance by the hair and pulling his head back brutally.
"You broke into my home," Alessandro whispered, placing the hot barrel of his gun against Vance's temple. "You terrified my family."
"She's my wife!" Vance spat through gritted teeth, blood pouring from his mouth. "You can't have her! You're just a filthy mobster!"
"She was never yours," Alessandro corrected softly. "She was just waiting for a real man to protect her."
Alessandro pulled Vance up by his collar, dragging his screaming frame out of the bedroom and tossing him over the second-floor balcony railing. Vance fell twenty feet, landing with a sickening CRACK on the marble floor of the grand foyer below, where Marco and six armed Moretti enforcers stood waiting.
Vance lay groaning on the floor, both his legs shattered from the drop.
Alessandro walked down the grand staircase slowly, stopping on the bottom step, looking down at the broken man.
May you like
"Marco," Alessandro said coldly. "Take him to the South Side docks. Let Andrei Volkov deal with him. They have business to settle regarding ruined cargo."
"With pleasure, Boss," Marco grinned, dragging the screaming Vance out through the shattered front doors into the freezing night.
