Chapter 15 - Crossfire in Palermo
"Get down!" Marco roared, shoving Bianca behind the heavy stone pillar as return fire erupted from the dark mouth of the alley.
Two masked gunmen sprinted out from the shadows, automatic weapons raised, spraying bullets toward the porch. Rocco didn't hesitate. Drawing his weapon with terrifying speed, he fired twice, dropping the lead assailant instantly before pulling Bianca safely inside the foyer and slamming the heavy oak door.
"Who are they?" Bianca gasped, trembling as glass rained down from the shattered windows. "What do they want?"
"They want you," Rocco said grimly, inspecting her for injuries. "And they mistook you for an easy target. Marco, secure the back exit! Make sure none of them leave alive!"
"On it, Boss," Marco barked into his comms.
Bianca stared at Rocco, her chest heaving with adrenaline. "You knew my name. You knew where to find me. Who the hell are you?"
Rocco looked at the young woman standing before him—his daughter, stolen away in the dark on the night of her birth, hidden across an ocean while he fought a war for survival.
"I am your father," Rocco said, his voice thick with an emotion he had kept locked away for a decade. "And nobody is ever going to hurt you again."
Before Bianca could process the words, her phone buzzed loudly on the wooden entryway table. The screen lit up with an unknown international caller ID.
May you like
Rocco picked it up, swiped to answer, and pressed it to his ear.
"Mr. Moretti," a smooth, synthesized voice echoed through the speaker. "I see you found our little gift in Palermo. Impressive. But you only have one guard protecting the perimeter. If you want to keep your daughter alive, you will sign over full operational control of the eastern shipping ports by sunrise tomorrow."
