Chapter 7 - Reign of Ashes
The Romano estate in Alpine, New Jersey, was a sprawling six-acre fortress overlooking the Hudson River. Surrounded by ten-foot stone walls, iron gates, and high-tech security cameras, it was designed to withstand a siege.
Tonight, the siege arrived.
At 2:00 AM, a heavy commercial dump truck—owned by Carter Logistics—rammed through the front iron gates at fifty miles per hour, pulverizing the stone pillars and clearing a wide path into the driveway.
Before the Romano guards could react, three black SUVs roared through the shattered entrance, tearing across the manicured lawns.
A dozens of Andrew’s elite security operators flooded the grounds, armed with tactical gear and suppressed rifles. The gunfight was swift, brutal, and completely overwhelming.
Inside the grand mahogany library of the estate, Don Frank Romano—a silver-haired man in his sixties—sat behind his massive oak desk, frantically trying to rack a silver revolver with trembling hands.
The heavy library doors were kicked off their hinges, crashing onto the hardwood floor.
Andrew Carter walked into the room.
He walked alone. His coat was gone, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing arms corded with muscle and thick veins. He carried no weapon in his hands, only the terrifying confidence of a man who knew he could not be stopped.
Behind him, the noise of gunfire outside abruptly died down into dead silence.
"Andrew," Frank Romano stammered, standing up, his revolver shaking violently as he aimed it at Andrew’s chest. "You... you're crazy! You brought an army into New Jersey! The Commission will destroy you for this! There are rules!"
Andrew stopped ten feet from the desk, looking at the old mob boss with supreme contempt.
"You broke the rules when you sent a street thug to shatter my assistant's skull, Frank," Andrew said, his voice flat and devoid of any human warmth.
"It was business!" Frank shouted, sweating profusely. "It was just business! I needed access to your shipping lanes!"
"She is not business," Andrew said, taking a step forward.
Frank pulled the trigger.
Click.
The revolver misfired.
Before Frank could pull the trigger a second time, Andrew closed the distance with terrifying speed. He grabbed Frank’s wrist, twisting it sharply until the bone snapped with a sickening crack.
Frank screamed, dropping the gun.
Andrew grabbed him by the throat, hauling the older man over the massive oak desk and slamming him face-down onto the glass coffee table nearby. The heavy glass shattered into a thousand jagged shards.
Andrew pressed his hand firmly against the back of Frank’s neck, pinning him into the sharp glass.
"Listen to me, Frank," Andrew whispered into the old man's ear. "I am taking your shipping lanes. I am taking your warehouses in Brooklyn. I am taking every dollar you have in Panama. And if I ever hear the name Romano in this city again, I will come back and finish what I started tonight."
"Okay! Okay! I surrender! Take it all!" Frank choked out, blood dripping from his cheeks where the glass cut him. "Just let me live!"
Andrew held him down for five long seconds, letting the terror sink deep into Frank’s soul.
Then, Andrew released his grip and stepped back.
"Lucas," Andrew called out over his shoulder.
Lucas walked into the library, holding a tablet and a stack of legal transfer documents.
"Have him sign the asset transfer papers," Andrew ordered, wiping his hands with a handkerchief. "If he hesitates, break his other wrist."
"Got it, Boss," Lucas said, pulling out a pen.
Andrew walked out of the ruined library, stepping into the cool night air.
He didn't care about the millions of dollars in real estate he had just conquered. He didn't care that he was now the undisputed king of the entire Tri-State underworld.
He pulled out his phone and dialed the only number that mattered.
It rang once.
"Andrew?" Cindy’s voice came through the speaker, warm, anxious, and filled with deep concern. "Are you okay?"
May you like
The lethal darkness in Andrew’s chest instantly evaporated. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath of the night air, a genuine, soft smile touching his lips.
"I'm coming home, Cindy," Andrew whispered softly. "It's over."
