Chapter 5 - THE MIDNIGHT CARGOThe rain had turned into a torrential sheet by the time Dante’s bulletproof Mercedes tore through the wrought-iron gates of the Moretti estate. Marco drove with white-knuckled intensity, the headlights cutting through the blinding downpour toward the private shipping docks owned by Moretti Global Logistics.
In the backseat, Dante sat in dead silence, turning his father’s heavy brass pocket watch over and over in his palm. The case was popped open; the gears had been jammed with a small, familiar silver charm—a miniature anchor bearing the crest of the Vane shipping fleet.
"She knew we'd find the watch," Marco shouted over the roar of the engine and the deafening slap of the wipers. "It's a trap, Dante. Every checkpoint between here and Pier 4 is flagged. If the federal task force is watching—"
"I don't give a damn about the task force," Dante interrupted, his voice lethal and cold. "My son's name was on that wall. If she touched a hair on Leo's head, I'll burn her entire syndicate to ash, starting with whatever is waiting at the docks."
The Mercedes slid to a violent halt on the slick concrete of Pier 4.
Giant shipping containers towered into the stormy night like monolithic steel tombstones. The ocean churned violently against the pylons, spraying salt water across the lower decks. In the center of the pier, a single industrial crane loomed over an open container marked with the Moretti seal.
Dante stepped out into the blinding rain, his tailored wool coat soaking through instantly. He drew his weapon, flicking off the safety.
"Marco, flank the left. Cover the crane operator’s booth."
"Dante, look," Marco pointed upward.
May you like
Suspended high in the air, dangling from the heavy steel arm of the industrial crane by a thick nylon rope, was not a crate. It was a wicker bassinet—rocking violently in the gale-force winds fifty feet above the crashing waves.
And standing right at the edge of the open platform beneath the crane, umbrella in hand, was Elena.
