At 11:59 P.M., a barefoot three-year-old girl knocked on the forbidden door of Mafia boss Murphy Moretti.

Rain began to pour over the estate as automatic gunfire tore through the grand foyer.

Mercenaries in black tactical gear poured through the shattered iron gates, pushing through the courtyard toward the mansion's front entrance.

Inside the grand hallway, Murphy stood behind a heavy marble pillar, holding an assault rifle in his left hand and his heavy revolver in his right. Beside him stood twenty loyal Moretti enforcers, laying down suppressing fire.

Glass chandeliers shattered above, showering sparkling shards across the hardwood floors like deadly hail.

Through the smoke and flashes of muzzle fire, the leader of the mercenary team—a massive scarred man named Geno—stepped into the foyer, holding a heavy shotgun.

"Moretti!" Geno roared over the gunfire. "Hand over the Sterling ledger and the girl, and we might let you walk out of here alive!"

Murphy stepped out from behind the pillar, firing three precise shots that dropped Geno’s two forward scouts instantly.

"You're in the wrong house, Geno!" Murphy’s voice boomed through the acoustics of the hallway.

Murphy hit a remote detonator switch on his tactical belt.

A series of non-lethal defense charges installed beneath the front lawn detonated simultaneously, sending a blinding wave of light and sound through the courtyard. The invading mercenaries were thrown into complete confusion, disoriented by the flashbang wave.

Murphy’s loyal enforcers surged forward, sweeping through the foyer and driving the remaining invaders back into the rain-soaked courtyard.

Within fifteen minutes, the firefight was over. The courtyard was secured, forty mercenaries were disarmed and bound, and Geno lay trapped under a fallen iron beam, bleeding and disarmed.

Murphy walked out into the rain, his heavy coat soaked, stepping up to Geno.

"Who paid you?" Murphy asked coldly, aiming his revolver at Geno’s chest.