Chapter 3
Gunfire erupted immediately, a deafening roar that tore through the elegance of the Moretti home.
Elias was already moving, barking orders into his radio as he drew his sidearm.
The Moretti guards returned fire, using the heavy oak pillars and overturned antique tables for cover.
Dante’s men flooded through the breached entrance like a pack of starving wolves.
They were reckless, shooting wildly and destroying priceless art in their blind rush for blood.
Julian heard the explosion and calmly reached into his desk drawer, retrieving a sleek, custom-fitted pistol.
He didn't panic; he merely calculated the angles and the numbers.
He stepped out of his office, moving toward the grand staircase to assess the slaughter below.
Three of Dante’s heavily armed hitters had already managed to slip past the main firefight.
They were climbing the back servant stairs, intending to flank Julian and end the war quietly.
These men were large, heavily scarred, and fueled by the promise of a massive bounty.
They moved with surprising speed, kicking open doors and clearing the hallway leading to the executive suite.
Julian heard their heavy boots on the hardwood floor just a fraction of a second too late.
He turned, raising his weapon, but one of the hitters was already aiming a shotgun squarely at his chest.
Time seemed to freeze in the dimly lit corridor.
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Then, a blur of motion emerged from the shadows of the archive room.
It was silent, deadly, and completely unexpected.
