Chapter 5 - The Ambush at the Docks
By nightfall, Luca’s estate had been transformed into a war room.
Dozens of armed men in suits patrolled the perimeter. In the basement command center, analysts swept the micro-drive, decrypting the massive financial files left behind by Viktor Vance.
Hope sat in the main dining room, wrapped in a comfortable cashmere sweater Luca had given her to replace her torn sweatshirt. A warm meal sat untouched on the table before her.
Luca walked in, shedding his jacket and rolling up his sleeves. For the first time, Hope noticed deep, jagged scars on his own forearms—old knife wounds from his early days in the city's underbelly.
"You should eat," Luca said, pulling out a chair opposite her. "Marta made the soup herself before I sent her to a safe house in Maine. She was very insistent that you finish it."
"How is she?" Hope asked quietly.
"Recovering. The doctor said your pressure dressing saved her from femoral artery collapse." Luca looked at her hands. "You were a good medic."
"I was a tired medic," Hope corrected. "When you spend six years putting nineteen-year-old kids back together with thread and hope, you realize how cheap human life is to the people who order the wars."
"I know the feeling," Luca said, his voice dropping into a low, somber tone. "My father built this organization on blood. I spent ten years trying to turn it into something legitimate—real estate, shipping, clean contracts. Elias didn't want any part of it. He wanted to serve. He thought joining the military was cleaner than staying here."
Luca let out a bitter, silent laugh. "Turns out the politicians are just mob bosses with better tailoring."
Before Hope could answer, the heavy wooden doors of the dining room burst open.
Mateo rushed in, his face tense, his hand resting on his sidearm. "Boss. We have a situation. Dominic Morello just called the main line."
Luca stood up instantly, his demeanor shifting from tender to terrifying in a fraction of a second. "Put him on speaker."
Mateo tapped a tablet screen. A raspy, arrogant voice filled the room.
"Luca," Dominic Morello drawled through the speaker. "I hear you have a new houseguest. A pretty little delivery girl with a habit of saving lives."
Luca’s expression turned to ice. "Dominic. You sent three men into my home. They are currently in federal custody speaking to my lawyers. You have ten seconds to explain why I shouldn't wipe your harbor operations off the map tonight."
"Because I have something you want, Luca," Dominic sneered. "Check the live feed from your North End garage."
Mateo tapped the screen, pulling up a security video. Hope gasped.
Bound to a chair in a dark warehouse was Alyssa—Hope’s younger sister, a twenty-one-year-old college student who knew nothing about Hope’s past or the mob. Alyssa’s face was bruised, her mouth taped shut, terror wild in her eyes.
"Your little medic thought she kept her family hidden," Dominic laughed. "Bring the girl and the micro-drive to Pier 42 in one hour. Alone. Or I send your brother’s medic her sister's head in a box."
The line went dead.
Hope stood up so fast her chair overturned. "Alyssa! Oh God, no! No, no, no!"
She grabbed Luca’s arm, her fingers digging into his sweater. "Luca, please! She doesn't know anything! She’s just a student! Please help me!"
May you like
Luca looked down at her hands on his arm, then up at her panicked face. His eyes flared with a lethal, dark fire.
"Mateo," Luca growled softly. "Get the tactical team. We are going to Pier 42. And we are going to burn the Morello family to the ground."
