Chapter 7 - The Safehouse Trap
The speedboat docked at an abandoned industrial warehouse along the city's old harbor district. Dante led Claire and Lily through a rusted corrugated metal door into a vast, high-ceilinged loft converted into a high-tech command center. Monitors lined the walls, displaying security feeds from all over the city.
"You're safe here," Dante said, gesturing to a comfortable sofa in the corner. "My private extraction team is regrouping. In two hours, we strike back."
Claire set Lily down, watching the child drift off to sleep on the sofa wrapped in a heavy wool blanket. She walked over to Dante, who was furiously typing codes into a satellite terminal.
"Dante," Claire said softly, her anger finally overriding her fear. "Why are you keeping us here? We are innocent civilians. You dragged us into your mafia war. If Salvatore finds us—"
"Salvatore won't find us," Dante interrupted coldly, not looking up from the screen. "Because I’m going to end this tonight."
Suddenly, the overhead monitors flickered. The green surveillance feeds abruptly cut to static, one by one, until only a single camera remained active—the exterior camera facing the front loading bay of the warehouse.
A sleek black limousine pulled up outside. The doors opened, and a dozen armed mercenaries stepped out, forming a perimeter. At the center of them walked an older man leaning heavily on an expensive silver-headed cane.
Salvatore Moretti.
Dante stared at the monitor, his face turning into a mask of pure ice.
"How did they find us?" Claire whispered in sheer terror, her hands trembling. "You said this place was secure!"
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Dante slowly stood up, letting his pistol slide back into his shoulder holster. A strange, twisted smile touched the corners of his lips—a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"Because," Dante said softly, turning to face Claire, "it was never Salvatore who leaked our location."
