Chapter 4 - The Threat Approaching
For three days, the Costa compound experienced something it hadn't known since Isabella's death.
Peace.
Dante was thriving, putting on weight with every passing hour under Clara's devoted care.
Clara slept in the adjoining suite, her entire world narrowing down to the beautiful, dark-haired infant.
But outside the impenetrable walls of the estate, trouble was brewing in the Boston underbelly.
Marcus Dean had caught wind that his runaway ex-girlfriend was earning massive wages at a coastal estate.
He was drowning in gambling debts to a vicious street gang and viewed Clara as his personal ATM.
He didn't know she was working for Vincenzo Costa; he only knew the address.
Late Tuesday night, the perimeter alarms at the estate's southern gate silently tripped in the security room.
Clara was in the nursery, humming a soft lullaby to Dante as she rocked him in the dim light.
Downstairs, Vincenzo was in his war room, analyzing shipping routes when his head of security burst in.
"Boss, we have a breach at the lower gate," the scarred enforcer reported.
Vincenzo’s eyes narrowed instantly, a chilling calmness washing over him.
"Is it the Falcone remnants?" he asked, reaching for his sidearm.
"No, sir. It's a single vehicle, registered to a Marcus Dean out of South Boston."
The name echoed in Vincenzo's mind, igniting a rage so profound it made his vision blur.
This was the man who had beaten a pregnant woman, the man responsible for the grief in Clara's eyes.
"Take him alive," Vincenzo ordered, his voice echoing off the stone walls.
"I want to handle this piece of trash personally."
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Upstairs, Clara heard the distant crunch of tires on gravel, entirely unaware of the nightmare approaching.
She pulled Dante closer to her chest, promising the sleeping baby she would never let anything hurt him.
