Chapter 1 - THE TRIGGER AND THE TRUTHThe gunshot cracked through the damp morning air like a whip.
It wasn't Leo's gun. It wasn't Vincent's.
It came from thirty yards behind Vincent, shattering the quiet of the graveyard and spraying bark chips from the trunk of an oak tree inches from Vincent's right ear. Vincent shrieked, dropping his weapon as he spun around, his eyes wide with blind panic.
"Drop it, Moretti! FBI! Federal Agents, don't move an inch!"
Four black tactical SUVs tore through the cemetery gates, ripping up the frost-crusted turf, tires screaming against the gravel path. Doors flew open before the vehicles had even fully stopped. Armed agents in tactical gear poured out, rifles raised, cutting off every escape route.
But Leo Buckland didn't look at the feds. He didn't look at Vincent, who was now scrambling backward on his hands and knees, clawing at the muddy grass like a cornered rat.
Leo looked down at Jonathan Carr.
The undercover cop was still leaning against Rocco's broad, muscular chest. The German Shepherd hadn't flinched at the gunfire. He stood like a statue carved from midnight and muscle, his amber eyes locked onto Vincent, low warning growls vibrating deep in his throat.
"Johnny," Leo whispered, his voice rough, stripped of all the terrifying authority that had made mayors and judges shake for two decades. "You’re a cop."
Carr coughed, spitting a dark clump of soil onto the grass. He raised his bloodshot eyes to meet the piercing gaze of the man he had lived with, eaten with, and plotted with for half a year.
"I'm sorry, Leo," Carr rasped, his voice tearing through his ruined throat. "The badge is real. But the rest of it... everything I did for you, the loyalty... that wasn't a lie."
Before Leo could answer, Vincent let out a high-pitched, desperate laugh. He lunged for his dropped pistol in the mud.
"You think you won?" Vincent shrieked, his face twisting into a mask of pure madness as his fingers brushed the cold steel of the gun handle. "The feds are here for him, Leo! They’re here for the empire! You're going down too, old man!"
BANG.
Rocco moved faster than human vision could track.
He didn't bite Vincent. He slammed into him like a runaway freight train, knocking the lieutenant twenty feet across the grass. Vincent’s gun went skittering into the open grave behind them, landing with a hollow thud against the empty casket at the bottom.
Federal agents swarmed Vincent instantly, pinning him face-down into the frozen mud, snapping heavy steel cuffs onto his wrists.
"Secure the perimeter!" shouted an agent with a silver badge hanging from his tactical vest. He marched straight toward Leo Buckland, his rifle pointed at the ground, but his finger resting dangerously close to the trigger. "Leo Buckland. Step away from the officer with your hands where I can see them."
Leo didn't move.
He stood tall, the wind whipping his long black coat around his legs like the wings of a dark angel. He looked at the federal agent, then down at Johnny Carr, and finally at Rocco, who was now sitting protectively over the wounded cop, refusing to let any federal agent come within five feet of him.
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Leo slowly unbuttoned his coat. He reached inside, his movements deliberate, terrifyingly calm.
"I'm not going anywhere," Leo said softly, his eyes never leaving Carr. "And neither is my dog."
