Chapter 7 - The Hunt
The war for Providence did not last forty-eight hours. It was over in four.
While Maeve stayed safely inside Falcone House under the protection of ten heavily armed guards, the three Falcone brothers unleashed the full, terrifying force of their syndicate upon Dominic Moretti’s empire.
Roman executed a brilliant financial ambush, freezing Moretti’s offshore accounts and seizing his legitimate shipping businesses through shell corporations within two hours.
Gabriel used his political network to revoke Moretti’s port licenses, turning his own corrupt police contacts against him.
And Declan led twenty men directly into Moretti’s headquarters in the heart of Providence.
At 4:00 a.m., the front doors of Falcone House opened once more.
Maeve was waiting in the living room, sitting on the sofa with a warm blanket wrapped around her shoulders.
The three brothers walked in. They were tired, covered in rain and soot, but entirely uninjured.
Roman walked straight to the fireplace where Maeve sat. He pulled a heavy, leather-bound folder from his coat and dropped it onto her lap.
Maeve looked down at the document. It was the deed to a stunning, four-bedroom coastal cottage located three miles down the road from the estate, along with a trust fund agreement establishing a permanent, fully funded medical endowment for Chloe Carter.
“What is this?” Maeve gasped, her hands trembling as she read the legal paperwork.
“Moretti’s empire has been dismantled,” Roman said, unbuttoning his damp coat and tossing it over a chair. “His assets were seized. His men have surrendered or fled the state. He will never threaten you or your sister again.”
“Roman… I can't accept this—”
“It’s not a bribe, Maeve,” Gabriel said softly, stepping up beside his brother, his usual sarcastic edge entirely gone. “It’s a debt paid. You stood by this family when you could have walked away with a million dollars. Falcones pay their debts.”
Declan leaned against the mantle, grinning through a smear of grease on his cheek. “Besides, the cottage has a great kitchen. You can cook for us on your days off.”
Maeve looked up at the three men standing around her. The terrifying mafia triplets who had driven away dozens of nannies, housekeepers, and guards—the men the entire state of Rhode Island feared—were looking at her with an absolute, unshakeable loyalty.
Tears finally welled in Maeve’s eyes, spilling down her cheeks. Not tears of fear or exhaustion, but of overwhelming relief.
May you like
Roman knelt down in front of her, his large, warm hand gently wiping away a tear with his thumb.
“You don't have to cry anymore, Maeve,” Roman murmured, his voice thick with an emotion he had hidden for years. “You’re safe now.”
