Chapter 2 - Blood on the Syndicate Floor"Get down!" Dante barked, shoving both Sophia and me down toward the floor just as a hail of submachine-gun fire shredded through the living room windows.
Glass exploded in a deadly sparkling wave across the hardwood floor. The walls turned into plaster dust as heavy-caliber rounds systematically demolished the apartment. Sophia screamed, burying her face into my chest. I threw my body over her, shielding her small frame as dust and debris rained down on us.
Dante didn't flinch. Moving with the terrifying, predatory grace that had made him the most feared sovereign of New York's underworld, he fired three precise shots through the shredded doorframe into the darkened corridor.
Three heavy bodies hit the floor outside.
"They aren't here to capture us, Elena," Dante called out over the ringing in my ears, his eyes scanning the room, calculating trajectories and choke points. "Mateo knows the wedding is burned. He’s liquidating assets."
"Including Sophia?" my voice trembled, but my grip on the girl never wavered.
"Including anyone who can speak," Dante replied darkly.
He lunged across the shattered coffee table, grabbed my arm with iron force, and pulled us both into the narrow hallway leading toward the fire escape. "The front stairwell is jammed. We go out through the alley."
"Dante, the alley was where the vehicles pulled up!" I protested.
"Exactly," Dante said, a grim, ruthless smile cutting across his sharp jawline. "Which means that's where Mateo expects me not to go."
We reached the kitchen fire escape door just as the main entrance to my apartment was kicked off its hinges entirely. Dante spun, emptying his magazine into the smoke-filled doorway, driving back the advancing hit squad. In two swift motions, he ejected the empty magazine, slapped in a fresh one, and kicked open the fire exit.
"Go! Elena, take the ladder!" he commanded.
I grabbed Sophia and pulled her down the rusty iron steps into the rainy Manhattan night. The cold rain plastered my hair to my face as we scrambled down the slick metal. Above us, Dante stood at the top platform like an unstoppable force, returning fire against a dozen heavily armed mercenaries.
When we reached the lower alley level, a dark armored SUV screeched around the corner, its headlights blinding us. The driver's door swung open.
Out stepped Mateo Rossi. He wasn't wearing his usual tailor-made suit; he wore a tactical vest, holding a suppressed assault rifle.
"Elena," Mateo said smoothly, his voice echoing off the brick walls of the alley. "Hand the girl over. You were always just an assistant. You didn't need to die for a family that isn't yours."
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"She stays with me," I snarled, placing myself firmly in front of Sophia.
Mateo raised his weapon calmly. "Then you die with her."
