Chapter 7 - Rain, Steel, and Vengeance
The darkness of the shipping yard shattered into absolute chaos.
As the overhead floodlight blew out, the emergency backup generators flickered on, bathing the container terminal in an eerie, pulsing red alarm light.
Before Vance’s men could recover their bearings, Luca moved with the terrifying speed of a striking panther. He fired twice, dropping the enforcer holding Leo before the man even realized what was happening.
Leo tumbled forward, but Matteo—rappelling down the steel beams of the crane with impossible agility—scooped my son up into his arms, rolling behind a stack of steel shipping containers out of the line of fire.
"Leo!" I screamed, sprinting across the wet asphalt.
Two Chicago thugs lunged out from behind a container wall, blocking my path with automatic rifles raised.
I didn't slow down. I slid across the slick pavement, ducking beneath their line of fire, and emptied my clip into the first man’s chest. As the second man tried to pivot his rifle toward me, I drove the heavy heel of my boot into his knee, snapping it backward with a sickening crunch. He dropped like a stone.
I scrambled past them, diving behind the steel crates where Matteo was holding Leo.
"Is he hurt?" I demanded, my hands shaking as I grabbed my son.
"He's fine, boss lady," Matteo panted, checking Leo over. "Just scared."
I pulled Leo tight against my chest, burying my face in his curls. "Mom’s here, baby. Mommy's got you. Close your eyes."
Out in the open loading bay, the gunfire reached a deafening crescendo.
Luca moved through the Chicago syndicate’s men like a wraith of vengeance. Every shot was deliberate, every movement calculated to protect his family. He carved a path straight toward Viktor Vance, who was scrambling backward toward a waiting getaway van.
"Fontana!" Vance screamed, bleeding from a graze on his shoulder, frantically trying to raise his pistol.
Luca stepped out of the driving rain, standing directly under the pulsing red emergency light. His face was a mask of cold, unyielding fury. He raised his Glock, locked his arm, and shot Vance squarely in the right knee.
Vance shrieked, collapsing into the muddy puddles of the tarmac.
Luca walked slowly toward him, the rain washing the blood from his tailored suit. He stood over Vance, pointing the barrel of his gun right between the Chicago boss’s eyes.
"You should have stayed in Chicago, Viktor," Luca said softly, his voice carrying an icy finality.
"Wait—wait!" Vance choked out, spitting blood and mud. "We can make a deal! The ports! The shipping lanes! Everything is yours—"
"I already have everything I need," Luca interrupted.
May you like
He pulled the trigger.
The shot echoed off the towering steel containers, swallowed instantly by the roar of the Miami storm.
