Chapter 9 - THE RECKONING OF THE RIVALS
The peace didn't last. In the vacuum left by the destruction of the Marcone family, a new, younger faction had begun to rise in the underbelly of Baltimore. They called themselves the Dockside Syndicate, a brutal collective of traffickers who didn't respect the old rules, the old territories, or the truce lines drawn by the Commission.
And they had discovered that the former King of New York had a vulnerability hidden in a small blue house in Harbor Ridge.
It was 2:00 AM on a Tuesday when Gabriel’s secure phone rang on Roman’s nightstand. Roman answered it before the first ring could finish.
"Talk to me," Roman ordered.
"We have a breach," Gabriel’s voice was tense, the sound of a vehicle engine roaring in the background. "A crew from Baltimore—six men, heavy weapons—just bypassed our early warning perimeter near Route 50. They’re moving toward Harbor Ridge. They think they can kidnap Noah and hold him for the liquidation assets of your green energy trusts."
Roman was out of bed before Gabriel could finish the sentence. He grabbed a black tactical jacket and his custom silver Beretta from the hidden safe behind his headboard.
"Where are you?" Roman demanded, rushing down the private elevator to the building's underground garage.
"I’m ten minutes out from the town, but they’re closer," Gabriel said. "Roman, they don't know about the passive security team we left at the docks, but if a gunfight breaks out near the house, Elena and the baby are right in the crossfire."
"I am driving," Roman said, slamming his hand against the steering wheel of his high-powered sedan as the engine roared to life. "If they touch a hair on his head, Gabriel, I will burn Baltimore to the ground."
The Small Blue House...The storm off the Chesapeake Bay was raging, the wind rattling the windows of the cottage. Elena woke up to a sudden, sharp crack—not of thunder, but of a wooden fence post breaking in the backyard.
She sat up instantly, her maternal instincts screaming. She slipped out of bed, creeping toward the nursery. Noah was sleeping peacefully, his tiny fist tucked under his chin.
Elena reached under the crib, her fingers wrapping around the cold, steel grip of a compact revolver her father had given her when she turned eighteen. She had hoped she would never have to use it again.
Suddenly, the power failed. The house plunged into absolute darkness.
Downstairs, the sound of glass shattering echoed through the wind.
Elena's breath hitched. She stepped into the hallway, her heart pounding in her ears. She heard heavy footsteps on the uneven wooden floors of the living room.
"Find the girl and the brat," a rough voice whispered in the dark. "The boss wants them alive, but he didn't say anything about keeping them pretty."
Elena retreated into the nursery, locking the heavy oak door behind her. She stood in front of the crib, raising the revolver with both hands, her eyes locked on the door knob.
Suddenly, from the backyard, a deafening explosion shattered the night.
A flash of fire illuminated the window, followed by the rapid, terrifying rhythm of automatic gunfire. Screams of agony tore through the garden as the passive security team Gabriel had hidden in the town engaged the intruders.
Through the nursery window, Elena saw a silhouette sprinting through the rain. It was a tall man, moving with a calculated, lethal grace. He didn't cover his face. As a flash of lightning split the sky, his features were exposed.
It was Roman.
He didn't look like a corporate CEO anymore. He looked like the devil himself, reborn from the ashes of his empire. He fired three shots through the kitchen window, dropping an intruder who was attempting to flank the staircase.
"Roman!" Elena gasped, her hands shaking.
The nursery door groaned as one of the remaining attackers slammed his body against it from the hallway. "Open the door, bitch! We know you're in there!"
Bang! Bang!
Two bullets tore through the wood of the nursery door from the outside, missing Elena by inches. She fired back twice through the door, hearing a grunt of pain, but the lock was giving way.
Just as the door was about to splinter open, a shadow appeared in the hallway behind the attacker. Roman had breached the upstairs.
He didn't use a gun. He slammed the intruder against the wall, his hands locking around the man's throat with a terrifying, primal strength. The attacker struggled, firing his weapon wildly into the ceiling, but Roman didn't let go until the man went limp, dropping to the floor like a sack of stones.
Roman stood in the ruined doorway of the nursery, his chest heaving, his face covered in rain and blood from a shallow cut on his temple.
He looked at Elena. Then he looked at Noah, who had woken up and begun to cry.
Roman didn't take a step forward. He stayed on the threshold, respecting the boundary even in the middle of a war zone.
"Are you hurt?" Roman asked, his voice trembling, gasping for air.
Elena lowered her weapon slowly, her eyes wide as she looked at her ex-husband. "No. We're safe."
Gabriel appeared in the hallway behind Roman, his weapon raised, his face grim. "The area is secure, Roman. All six are down. The local police are five minutes away."
Roman nodded slowly, never taking his eyes off his son. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, plush toy boat—the same one Noah had been playing with in the surveillance photo. He placed it gently on the hallway floor, just outside the nursery door.
"The Baltimore faction won't trouble you again, Elena," Roman said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I’ve made sure of it."
He turned to leave, but Elena's voice stopped him.
"Roman."
He paused, his back to her.
"Thank you," she said softly.
May you like
Roman didn't turn around. He couldn't let her see the tears mixing with the rain on his face. "I promised I would protect him, Elena. Even from across the world."
He walked away into the dark, leaving the kingdom of peace behind.
