Chapter 7 - The Ambush
The trap was sprung on a Tuesday. Maria had insisted on leaving the estate to retrieve an heirloom necklace her grandmother had left her, hidden beneath the floorboards of her old apartment. She had refused an armed escort, wanting just one hour of normalcy. Dante, against his better judgment, had allowed it, sending only Enzo to drive her in an unmarked car.
It was a mistake he would violently regret.
Enzo’s frantic voice crackled over Dante’s secure radio line. “Boss! We’re pinned down. 4th and Elm. Three SUVs boxed us in. It’s the Falcones. They brought heavy artillery.”
Dante didn't wait for his security detail. He grabbed an assault rifle from the armory, threw himself into his armored Porsche, and tore through the estate gates like a demon unleashed from hell. The tires screamed as he drifted through the city streets, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm. If she dies, it's my fault.
When he arrived at the intersection, the unmarked car was riddled with bullet holes. Enzo was bleeding from the shoulder, returning fire from behind the engine block. Maria was huddled in the backseat, her hands covering her ears, screaming in sheer terror.
Dante didn't brake. He accelerated, slamming his two-ton armored Porsche directly into the side of the lead Falcone SUV, flipping it onto its roof in a shower of sparks and shattered glass.
He kicked his door open, stepping out into the crossfire. He didn't take cover. He walked forward, an avatar of death, his assault rifle barking with terrifying precision. He dropped three Falcone gunmen before they even registered he was there. His eyes were cold, his movements mechanical, fueled by a wrath so deep it terrified even his enemies.
May you like
When the street was finally silent, littered with bodies and burning metal, Dante tore the back door of the ruined car open. He pulled Maria into his arms, crushing her against his chest. She was shaking violently, crying into his suit jacket.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered, his hands covered in blood, stroking her hair. “You’re safe.”
