Chapter 7 - Into the Dark
On Thursday afternoon, a massive decoy fire was set at Dominic’s primary shipping terminal in Queens.
"Boss! They're burning Terminal 4!" Marco burst into the study, holding an encrypted radio. "Salvatore says Moretti’s men are pushing through the gates with automatic weapons. It’s an all-out assault!"
Dominic stood up, his instincts kicking in. "Assemble the strike team. We leave now. I want Moretti’s head by midnight."
Dominic rushed out of the estate with three armored vehicles full of men, leaving behind only a skeleton crew of four guards to secure the Long Island estate. He believed the threat was at the docks.
It was a fatal miscalculation.
At 4:15 PM, the heavy iron gates of the Russo estate were blown open by a remote-detonated explosive.
The sound roared through the house like a bomb. Windows shattered in the grand foyer. Beatrice, who was reading a book to Leo in the library, jumped to her feet, shielding the boy with her body.
"Bee! What was that?!" Leo cried, clinging to her skirt.
"Stay behind me, Leo!" Beatrice shouted.
Gunfire echoed down the marble hallway. Shouting, heavy boots, and the sharp crack of breaking glass filled the air. Beatrice’s mind raced. Dominic had shown her the hidden pantry crawlspace months ago—a tight, concealed space behind the wine rack meant for emergencies.
She grabbed Leo by the hands, dragging him into the industrial kitchen. She threw open the hidden panel behind the wine racks.
"Get inside, Leo! Don't make a sound, no matter what you hear!" she whispered fiercely, kissing his forehead.
"Where are you going?!" the little boy cried, tears streaming down his face.
"I'm going to lock it from the outside so they don't find you. I love you, sweet boy."
She pushed him in, snapped the heavy panel shut, and threw a rack of cast-iron pans over the seam to hide it completely.
Seconds later, the kitchen doors burst open.
Four men in tactical gear with heavy automatic rifles kicked through the doorway. At their head was Mateo Moretti himself—a tall, gaunt man with cold gray eyes and a cruel smile.
"Well, well, well," Moretti drawled, stepping into the kitchen and looking at Beatrice, who stood defenseless near the marble island, her heart pounding in her ears. "Dominic’s secret little treasure."
Beatrice stood tall, panting, her hands clenched into tight fists. "He isn't here. And you won't find what you're looking for."
Moretti stepped closer, grabbing Beatrice’s chin in a painful, iron grip. He leaned in, inspecting her face. "I don't need the boy. I just need you. Dominic left his soul unguarded."
Beatrice fought back, slamming her hand across Moretti’s face, but one of the armed men struck her across the back of the head with the butt of a rifle. Darkness rushed into her eyes as she collapsed onto the cold marble floor.
Thirty miles away in Queens, Dominic’s phone rang.
He answered it in the middle of a burning warehouse, his suit jacket covered in soot, a smoking gun in his hand.
"Russo," he growled.
"She has very soft skin, Dominic," Mateo Moretti’s voice echoed through the speaker, accompanied by the cold sound of a wind blowing across water. "And she bleeds just like anyone else."
Dominic’s blood turned to liquid ice. The gun in his hand felt light as air. "Moretti. If you touch a hair on her head, I will butcher every person who shares your surname."
"Come to the old grain silo at Red Hook Pier," Moretti chuckled darkly. "Come alone. Or I’ll throw her heavy little body into the harbor."
The call disconnected.
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Dominic dropped the phone. He turned to Marco, his eyes glowing with an unholy, terrifying rage that made even his hardened enforcers step back in fear.
"Get every man we have," Dominic whispered, his voice vibrating with lethal intent. "We are burning Brooklyn to the ground."
