Chapter 6 - The Siege of the ObsidianAt 11:00 PM, Chicago was blanketed in a heavy torrential downpour.
A fleet of five black SUVs tore through the slick streets, moving like a shadow parade toward the Obsidian Hotel—the very place where my life had collided with Alessandro’s six weeks ago.
Carmine Moretti had locked himself in the hotel’s penthouse suite, surrounding himself with thirty of his most loyal, heavily armed soldiers. He knew the poisoned juice plot had failed, and he knew Alessandro was coming.
I sat in the back of the lead SUV, dressed in a black tactical jacket over my dark clothes, my hands clutching the seat. Beside me, Alessandro checked the magazine of his custom black pistol, sliding it into his holster with a sharp clack.
"Stay in the vehicle until the floor is clear," Alessandro instructed, his tone leave no room for argument. "My personal bodyguard, Marco, will remain with you."
"Alessandro," I caught his arm before he could open the door.
He looked back at me, his amber eyes piercing through the dark interior of the car.
"Be careful," I said softly.
He reached out, cupping the back of my neck, and pulled me into a hard, deep kiss that tasted of rain and promises. "I always am, mia cara."
He slid out of the car, slamming the door. Within seconds, a chorus of suppressed gunfire echoed from the lobby of the Obsidian Hotel.
The glass doors of the luxury hotel shattered outward as Alessandro’s men breached the entrance. Screams, shouting, and the rhythm of heavy automatic weapon fire filled the night rain. I watched through the dark windows of the SUV, my heart in my throat, praying for the survival of the man I had spent six years hating—and had now come to love.
Twenty minutes felt like twenty years.
Suddenly, the radio on Marco's vest cracked to life. "Penthouse secure. Don Carmine is captured. Bring Miss Vance up."
Marco turned to me. "It's time, ma'am."
My legs felt like lead as I stepped out of the car into the freezing rain. Marco flanked me, weapon drawn, as we walked through the shattered lobby of the Obsidian Hotel. Spent bullet casings littered the polished marble floor—the same marble where I had dropped my tray of champagne glasses weeks ago.
We took the private express elevator to the 50th floor.
When the doors slid open, the scene before me was straight out of a nightmare. The lavish penthouse suite was torn to shreds by gunfire. Paintings were slashed, glass partitions pulverized, and several of Carmine's men were kneeling on the carpet with zip-ties binding their wrists, guarded by Alessandro’s soldiers.
In the center of the room, tied to a heavy mahogany chair, was Don Carmine Moretti.
He was an elderly man with thinning grey hair, wearing a blood-stained silk shirt, his nose broken and bleeding. Standing over him, looking like a dark angel of vengeance, was Alessandro.
And standing near the balcony, crying hysterically with blood on her white suit, was Victoria.
"Elizabeth..." Alessandro said softly, stepping aside as I entered the room.
Carmine lifted his battered head, his cold, reptilian eyes fixing on me. He spat a mouthful of blood onto the plush white rug.
"So..." Carmine rasped, a cruel sneer touching his lips. "Arthur Vance's little brat survived after all. I should have blown up the whole house, not just the car."
A surge of hot, white-hot fury burned through my veins. I walked slowly up to him, stopping inches from his face.
"You killed my mother," I said, my voice steady, filled with absolute ice. "You killed my father. And you tried to kill my child."
"Your father was a rat!" Carmine spat. "And your child is a bastard born of a traitor!"
Alessandro moved with terrifying speed, striking Carmine across the face with the butt of his gun, knocking the old man sideways in his chair.
"Speak to my wife with respect, Carmine," Alessandro growled, his voice vibrating with lethal intent.
I blinked. Wife?
Alessandro didn't look at me. He pulled a thick folder from his coat pocket—the decrypted files from my father's flash drive that his tech team had processed hours ago—and tossed it into Carmine's lap.
"It's over, Carmine," Alessandro said coldly. "Every bank account you own in the Caymans, Switzerland, and Panama has been seized by federal authorities. The evidence Arthur Vance collected six years ago is currently being delivered to the United States Attorney's Office. You aren't just losing your empire tonight. You are going to spend the rest of your pathetic life in a federal supermax facility."
Carmine’s face drained of what little color it had left. "You... you sent the files to the feds? You'll destroy us all, Vitali!"
"No," Alessandro smiled, a terrifying, beautiful smile. "I stripped your name from the immunity pact. The Vitali family remains untouchable. You are going to take the fall for six years of blood."
Carmine looked at Victoria, then back at Alessandro, realizing he was completely, utterly defeated.
May you like
Alessandro drew his pistol, pulling back the slide. He offered the gun handle to me.
"He took your family, Elizabeth," Alessandro said quietly. "The decision is yours. Do we leave him for the feds... or do we end it here?"
