Chapter 3 - The Crossfire of Treason
"Kill everyone. Leave no witnesses, especially not the girl."The command echoed through the dust-choked corridor just outside the basement door. The sudden explosion hadn't just shaken the dust from the ceiling; it had blown the entire eastern wall of the shipping warehouse to pieces.
Nikolai Romanov spun around, his knife instantly dropping from Nia’s stomach as his guards raised their assault rifles. "What the hell is that? Moretti shouldn't be here yet!"
Before the guard could answer, the door was blown off its hinges by a tactical breaching charge. But the men pouring through the smoke weren't wearing the black tactical gear of Dante’s elite guard. They wore civilian clothes with heavy body armor, carrying unmarked submachine guns.
It was a hit squad. And they weren't here to rescue Nia.
"Eliminate the Russians!" the lead mercenary shouted, opening fire.
The basement devolved into absolute, deafening chaos. Muzzle flashes illuminated the dark room as Nikolai’s guards returned fire. Nia threw herself to the floor, the chair she was tied to tipping over sideways. She pressed her face against the cold concrete, covering her stomach with her bound hands as spent shell casings rained down around her like metal hail.
"Treason!" Nikolai roared, firing his pistol at the invading mercenaries. He realized instantly that these men weren't trying to save the girl—they were actively shooting in her direction. They wanted her dead to erase the evidence of the family's betrayal.
Nikolai, realizing he was outgunned, ducked behind a concrete pillar. "Fall back to the tunnels!" he shouted to his remaining man. He cast a bitter look at Nia, who was trapped under the tipped chair, before slipping through a hidden escape hatch in the back wall.
The gunfire subsided, leaving only the groans of dying men and the thick smell of cordite.
Nia lay perfectly still, holding her breath, praying they would think she was already dead. Footsteps approached her. Heavy, tactical boots.
A hand grabbed the back of her chair and violently flipped it upright. Nia looked up, squinting through the dust, into the face of the lead mercenary. He raised his weapon, pointing it directly between her eyes.
"Sorry, lady. Orders from the top. You don't get to ruin the Moretti bloodline."
BANG.
The gunshot was deafeningly loud in the enclosed basement. Nia closed her eyes, waiting for the pain, waiting for the dark.
But no pain came.
She opened her eyes to see the mercenary frozen in place. A neat, red hole had appeared perfectly in the center of his forehead. He collapsed backward like a felled tree.
Standing in the shattered doorway, silhouetted by the fire burning in the upper warehouse, was Dante. His tailored suit was torn, his face covered in soot and blood, and his eyes were completely bloodshot. In his right hand, his custom Kimber .45 pistol was smoking.
"Nia," he breathed, his voice cracking with an emotion he had never shown in his entire life.
He dropped his gun, rushing forward and falling to his knees beside her. His hands moved with frantic urgency as he sliced through the ropes binding her wrists. The moment her hands were free, Nia didn't hug him. She threw a vicious, desperate slap across his face.
SLAP.
The strike echoed in the silent room. Dante’s head snapped to the side, but he didn't move. He just looked at her, accepting the blow, his eyes filled with absolute remorse.
"You left me," Nia sobbed, tears finally spilling over her bruised cheeks, her hands instinctively clutching her stomach. "You sat there and let them tear me apart! You let them call me a whore, a nobody! And you said nothing!"
"I know," Dante whispered, his voice trembling as he reached out, his large hands hovering over her stomach, terrified to touch her, terrified he might break her. "I know, Nia. I am so sorry. I was a coward. I thought I was protecting you from the politics, but I left you to the wolves. Please... let me see if you're hurt."
Before Nia could answer, Marcus rushed into the room, his face tense. "Dante! We have a massive problem. The mercenaries we just killed? I checked their tattoos and their gear. They aren't third-party contractors. They are Uncle Victor’s private enforcement wing. And Dante... your mother’s personal vehicle was spotted leaving the perimeter just minutes ago. She was supervising the hit."
Nia gasped, looking at Dante. The reality of his world was crashing down on her all over again. His own mother wanted her and her unborn child dead.
Dante stood up slowly, the vulnerability in his face hardening into an expression of pure, unadulterated executioner's rage. He looked down at his wife, then gently knelt back down, placing his palm flat against her belly. This time, Nia didn't pull away.
"I swore an oath to protect this city," Dante said, his voice dropping to a terrifying whisper. "But this city means nothing without you and my daughter. Marcus, take Nia to the secure safehouse in Wisconsin. Give her the highest level of security. If anyone so much as looks at that property, kill them."
"Where are you going, Boss?" Marcus asked.
May you like
Dante picked up his gun, checking the magazine with a sickening click. "I'm going to end the Moretti family once and for all."
HOOOOOOK FOR NEXT CHAP: Dante returns to the family estate to execute his own uncle, but when he arrives, he finds his mother holding a shocking piece of evidence that changes everything: Nia’s medical files reveal a dark secret about the pregnancy that Dante never anticipated.
