fiction

Chapter 7 - The Final Gamble

The clean-up of the mansion took less than an hour. Rossi security was ruthless, efficient, and thorough. By midnight, the shattered glass had been swept, the wounded intruders secured in the subterranean holding cells, and the estate locked down tighter than a nuclear silo.

I sat propped up in the library armchair, a wool blanket draped over my legs, sipping chamomile tea while Dr. Sterling re-bandaged the surgical incision on my chest.

“You’re lucky you didn’t pop your stitches, young lady,” the doctor scolded gently, snapping off his latex gloves. “Another stunt like that and those seven bullets are going to look like a minor inconvenience.”

Dominic stood by the massive stone fireplace, staring into the flames with a glass of bourbon in his hand. When Dr. Sterling packed up his bag and left the room, Dominic turned around.

“Victor Costa is running out of options,” Dominic said quietly, walking over to kneel beside my chair. He placed his large, warm hand over mine resting on the blanket. “His men just failed to take this house. The Commission is going to strip him of his territory by sunrise. But Costa is desperate, and desperate men do stupid things.”

“Where is he?” I asked.

“Dock 4 down at the Brooklyn Navy Yard,” Dominic replied, his eyes dark and resolute. “He’s trying to catch a container ship bound for South America before my captains lock down the ports. I’m going down there to finish this tonight.”

I looked at him, the gold ring gleaming under the amber lamplight. “I’m coming with you.”

Dominic opened his mouth to argue, but I raised my hand, stopping him dead in his tracks.

“You said it yourself, Dominic. I’m a Rossi now. If Victor Costa ends tonight, I want to see it happen with my own eyes. Otherwise, every time the wind blows or a car backfires outside this house, I’ll be waiting for the next bullet.”

May you like

Dominic stared at me for a long, silent moment. Then, a slow, proud smile broke across his handsome face. He reached out, gently cupping my cheek with his thumb.

“God help me,” Dominic whispered softly. “You’re going to be the death of me, Elena.”

Related Stories

Other posts