The Mafia boss slapped and called his seven-month pregnant wife a "cheap toy" in front of 300 aristocratic guests—unbeknownst to him that the woman he had just publicly abandoned was the daughter of the most fearsome Mafia Don in Sicily.

Though the Commission had spoken, a wounded rat is most dangerous when trapped in a corner.

Night fell over Rome. Rain began to fall over the cobblestone streets as the Romano convoy prepared to leave the Palazzo Altieri.

Inside the rear armored SUV, Isabella sat holding baby Leo close to her breast, while Dante sat in the front passenger seat, monitoring the perimeter scanners. Don Lorenzo followed in the second vehicle.

“The route to the airport is clear,” Dante said into his earpiece. “Keep the escort tight.”

Suddenly, a heavy semi-truck blew through a red light at the intersection, slamming directly into the lead police escort vehicle with a devastating crash!

“Ambush!” Dante screamed, drawing his weapon. “Defensive formation! Drive, drive!”

Four dark vans screeched around the corner, blocking the street entirely. Over a dozen heavily armed men in black masks poured out, opening fire on the Romano convoy with automatic rifles.

It was Victor Vance and the remnants of his Syndicate mercenaries, joined by a desperate, maniacal Matteo Vieri!

Bullets hammered against the bulletproof glass of Isabella’s SUV like hail.

“Stay down!” Dante commanded Isabella, throwing his body over her and the baby as glass cracked above them.

The Romano drivers returned fire, but the enemy had heavy weaponry. A rocket-propelled grenade struck the second vehicle, flipping it onto its side near the fountain!

“Papa!” Isabella screamed, her heart stopping as she saw her father’s car burning.

“He’s alive! His armor held!” Dante checked his wrist monitor. “Isabella, stay inside the car! The glass will hold for three minutes!”

Dante kicked his door open, stepping out into the storm of bullets with cold, lethal precision.

He was a hurricane of death. He fired with terrifying accuracy, dropping three mercenaries in three seconds. He advanced through the rain, providing covering fire as Romano guards pulled Don Lorenzo safely out of his overturned vehicle.

Matteo Vieri, holding a silver handgun with trembling hands, stepped out from behind a pillar, spots of rain splattering his face. He saw Isabella through the cracked SUV window.

“If I can't have the money, nobody gets the baby!” Matteo shrieked, raising his gun toward the vehicle’s fuel tank!

Before his finger could pull the trigger, Dante appeared behind him like an vengeance angel.

Dante grabbed Matteo’s arm, twisting it upward as a shot fired harmlessly into the night sky. He slammed his knee into Matteo’s stomach, forcing him to his knees on the wet cobblestones.

At the same time, three security vehicles bearing the official emblem of the Italian State Police screeched into the piazza, spotlights blinding the remaining mercenaries.

Victor Vance tried to run toward an alleyway, but Don Lorenzo’s chief sniper on the rooftop above fired a single, high-caliber shot through Vance’s chest, dropping the Syndicate leader instantly into the gutter.

The remaining mercenaries threw down their weapons, surrendering to the overwhelming force of the police and Romano enforcers.

Dante held Matteo by his collar, pinning him against the hood of the car, the barrel of Dante’s gun pressed firmly against Matteo’s temple.

Matteo wept, covered in blood and mud. “Please… Dante! Don't kill me! We were brothers once! Please!”

Dante looked at him with cold, absolute disgust. “You were never my brother. You were a parasite.”

Isabella stepped out of the SUV, holding Leo tightly in her arms, wrapped in a thick wool blanket. She walked over to where Dante held Matteo pinned.

Matteo looked up at her, begging with his eyes. “Isabella… mercy… please…”

Isabella looked down at the man who had slapped her, humiliated her, tried to poison her, and tried to sell her child.

“Mercy is for human beings, Matteo,” Isabella said softly, her voice steady as iron. “You are not human.”

She looked at Dante. “Let the law have him. Let him spend the rest of his miserable life in a maximum-security prison cell, knowing that my son will never know his name.”

Dante nodded. He slammed the butt of his gun into Matteo’s temple, knocking him unconscious, and tossed him like trash to the approaching police officers.

Don Lorenzo walked up, leaning on his cane, bruised but smiling through the rain. He wrapped his arm around Isabella’s shoulders, kissing her forehead.

“It is over, my child,” Lorenzo said softly. “The debt is settled.”

Isabella looked at Dante, who stood in the rain, blood dripping from his shoulder armor, looking at her with boundless love and devotion.