Chapter 7 - The Ambush at the Docks
"No, no, no!" I screamed, turning to run toward the elevator, but Luca caught my arm, pulling me back against his chest.
"Rachel, look at me!" Luca commanded, holding my shoulders firmly. "Look at me!"
I stared into his dark eyes, tears filling my vision. "He has my baby, Luca! He has Noah!"
"Listen to me," Luca said, his voice deadly calm, though the veins on his neck were bulging with rage. "Vance wants me. He used your bracelet because he knows you matter to me. He used Noah because he’s a coward. But I swear to you on my life, on my family's grave, I will bring your son back."
"I’m coming with you," I choked out.
"It’s too dangerous—"
"I am NOT staying here while my son is in danger!" I yelled, my voice breaking through the high-society background music. "Take me with you, Luca! Please!"
Luca looked into my desperate eyes, seeing the unyielding determination of a mother. He nodded once. "Marco, arm team three. We go to Pier 42. And call the secondary team at the estate—tell them to tear that house apart until we confirm Noah’s location."
Twenty minutes later, three heavy armored SUVs tore through the rainy streets of Boston, speeding toward the abandoned industrial docks of Pier 42. Rain slammed against the bulletproof glass as I sat in the back seat between Luca and Marco. Luca was strapping on a tactical vest over his dress shirt, racking the slide of an assault rifle.
"When we arrive, stay in the car with Marco," Luca instructed, grabbing my face in his hands. "Do you hear me? If things go wrong, Marco’s only job is to get you out."
"Bring him back to me, Luca," I wept, gripping his wrists. "Please."
Luca leaned down and pressed his lips firmly against mine—a fierce, desperate, possessive kiss that tasted of rain and promises. "I will die before I let them hurt him."
The SUVs skidded to a halt outside a massive, rusted shipping warehouse near the ocean. The rain was pouring violently, thunder shaking the dark sky.
Luca led eight heavily armed men out into the storm, disappearing into the dark entrance of the warehouse.
Inside the car, seconds felt like hours. I watched through the rain-streaked window, my chest aching so hard I could barely breathe. The distant pop of gunfire echoed over the sound of the falling rain.
Pop. Pop. Pop.
"Marco, what’s happening?" I gasped, clutching the leather seat.
Marco was staring at his tactical radio receiver, his face pale. "Boss, they have heavy fire from the upper gantries! It’s a setup!"
I couldn't sit there anymore. Panic took over every cell in my body. Before Marco could catch me, I pulled the door handle, threw myself out into the freezing rain, and ran straight into the dark warehouse.
"Rachel! Get back here!" Marco yelled, sprinting after me.
I burst through the side doors into a cavernous, dark hall filled with metal shipping containers. Muzzle flashes illuminated the gloom like strobe lights. Gunfire thundered through the metal structure.
"Rachel!" Luca’s voice boomed from behind a high stack of crates. He fired three rounds down the aisle, dropped an empty magazine, and slammed in a fresh one. "What are you doing here?!"
"Where is he?!" I cried, ducking behind a heavy metal crate as bullets ricocheted off the iron frame.
"He’s not here!" Luca spat, his eyes wide with fury. "It was a trap to pull me out of the estate! Vance isn't here—"
Suddenly, a loud voice echoed over the warehouse loudspeaker system.
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"Searching for someone, Luca?"
Julian Vance’s voice echoed through the rafters, cold and mocking. "You always were too sentimental about family. While you’re playing hero at Pier 42, my men are securing the heir to your precious hotel."
