Chapter 7 - Blood and Reckoning
Maren stood her ground on the inside of the safe room, holding the iron crowbar in front of her like a spear, her hazel eyes blazing with pure motherly fury.
"Damian isn't dead, Victor," Maren said, her voice amplified through the intercom system. "And you will never lay a hand on these children again."
Victor laughed—a harsh, manic sound. "You stupid, stubborn maid! Do you really think Damian loved you? You were just a tool! A convenient nanny! Once I take control of the Cross syndicate, Chicago will belong to me!"
He raised the tactical rifle, aiming it directly at the electronic keypad lock on the door!
BOOM!
The heavy wooden door at the top of the stone staircase blew off its hinges, crashing down the stairs!
Victor whirled around in shock, raising his rifle—
Out of the darkness, Damian emerged like a shadow made of fire and retribution. He was bleeding from a cut on his temple, his suit jacket gone, his black shirt soaked in rain and crimson, his eyes glowing with lethal fury.
"Victor," Damian growled.
Victor fired three rapid shots up the staircase! Damian dodged with terrifying speed, slipping behind the stone pillar, closing the distance before Victor could re-aim.
Damian grabbed the barrel of Victor’s rifle, wrenching it out of his hands with terrifying force, and slammed Victor violently against the stone wall!
CRACK!
Victor shrieked in pain as his shoulder dislocated. Damian drove his fist into Victor’s stomach, pinning the traitor by his throat, lifting him off his feet.
"Nineteen years," Damian whispered, his voice trembling with a rage so deep it vibrated through the stone floor. "I gave you power. I gave you wealth. I treated you like a brother. And you tried to murder my six-year-old child."
"Damian... please..." Victor gasped, struggling for air, his hands tearing uselessly at Damian’s iron grip. "The Morettis... they offered me fifty percent... I was tired of being second to you..."
"You weren't second, Victor," Damian snarled, his dark eyes locking onto his former advisor's terrified face. "You were nothing."
With a final, brutal surge of force, Damian threw Victor across the hallway. Victor slammed into the heavy steel door frame and collapsed onto the concrete floor, unconscious and broken.
Outside the bunker, heavy footsteps rushed down the stairs. Leo ran into the hallway, backed by ten fully armed, loyal Cross estate guards.
"The mercenaries have been eliminated, boss!" Leo reported, breathing heavily. "The estate is secure. The police commissioner is on his way to handle the cleanup."
Damian didn't care about the cleanup. He rushed to the bulletproof glass, pounding his bloody hand against the frame.
"Maren! Open the door! It's over! It's safe!"
Inside the safe room, Maren threw back the heavy iron latch and pulled the steel door open.
Damian stepped inside, dropping his weapon to the floor. Before he could say a word, Maren threw her arms around his neck, burying her face into his shoulder, sobbing with overwhelming relief.
Damian wrapped his large arms around her, holding her tightly against his chest, pressing his face into her hair. "I’ve got you," he breathed, his voice cracking. "I’ve got you both."
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Aria and Nora ran out, wrapping their arms around Damian’s legs.
Damian sank to his knees on the concrete floor, pulling all three of them into his arms—the terrifying mafia lord of Chicago, weeping openly as he held the family he had fought so hard to save.
