“If They Find the Cabin, We Don’t Just Die—We Vanish.” The storm outside the groundskeeper’s cabin did not just howl; it screamed like a dying beast. Inside, the single lantern flickered violently, casting long, grotesque shadows across the wooden walls.

“The Ultimate Betrayal in Front of Two Hundred Monsters.”The grand ballroom of the Rossi Tower was a sea of glittering diamonds, expensive tuxedos, and silk dresses. Two hundred of the most dangerous underworld figures from across the globe sat at round tables, drinking champagne while classical violinists played on stage.

At the center table sat Lorenzo Rossi, looking triumphant.

But next to him, bound to a heavy gilded chair behind the stage curtain, was Sarah. Her face was bruised, her uniform torn. Viktor stood over her, his thick fingers wrapped around a silver blade.

“You’re going to tell me where Dominic is,” Lorenzo whispered, leaning over her, his breath smelling of expensive cigars. “Or I will have Viktor send pieces of you to every hospital in New York until your mother receives your fingers in a biohazard bag.”

Sarah spat blood onto his polished leather shoes. “He’s coming for you, Lorenzo. And you’re too stupid to see it.”

Lorenzo laughed, a dry, cruel sound. “He’s a crippled boy hiding in a hole. Even if he walks through that door, I have forty armed men in this room. He is nothing without his father’s shadow.”

Lorenzo stepped out onto the main stage, tapping his glass with a silver spoon. The ballroom went dead silent.

“Ladies and gentlemen, distinguished partners,” Lorenzo announced into the microphone. “Tonight, we toast to absolute power. The Rossi name remains unbroken, under my leadership!”

The crowd cheered. Lorenzo raised his glass.

BOOM!

The massive double doors of the ballroom blew completely off their hinges.

Smoke and debris showered the crowd as guests screamed, diving under tables. Through the haze stepped Dominic Rossi. He wasn’t wearing a suit. He wore tactical body armor, a heavy assault rifle slung over his shoulder, and his eyes were burning with pure, unadulterated vengeance.

Behind him, ten heavily armed men—old loyalists to his father Carmine—swarmed the room, disarming Lorenzo’s confused guards before they could even draw their weapons.

“Lorenzo!” Dominic’s voice roared through the acoustics of the ballroom. “The throne isn’t yours to take!”

Lorenzo panicked, backing up toward the curtain, grabbing Sarah by her hair and pulling her in front of him as a human shield, pressing a pistol to her temple.

“Stay back, Dominic!” Lorenzo screamed, his voice cracking with terror. “Step down, or I blow her brains out right here! She’s the only reason you’re breathing! You want to watch her die?”

Dominic stopped twenty feet away, his rifle lowered slightly. His eyes locked onto Sarah’s.

“Dominic, don’t look at me,” Sarah shouted, tears cutting through the grime on her face. “Look at the ledger! Look at the screens!”

Suddenly, the massive digital display screens behind the stage—which were supposed to show the new treaty logos—flashed bright white.

An automated data stream began rolling down the screens. It wasn’t just financial data. It was a recorded video from the Catskills mansion’s hidden security server—the one Sarah had extracted from the basement utility terminal before she was caught.

The video played clearly for the entire underworld to see: It showed Lorenzo Rossi handing a bag of cash to a rival hit squad, giving them the exact security bypass codes to murder Carmine and Dominic.

The ballroom erupted into furious muttering. The capos stood up, their expressions turning from shock to lethal outrage. In the mafia world, killing a boss was one thing—but selling your own family out to an outside enemy was an unforgivable sin.