Chapter 5 - THE SHADOW OF THE DONA massive black figure burst through the cloud of dust and splintered wood like a demon unleashed from hell.
Ricardo Moretti didn't shoot. He didn't issue commands.
In two terrifying strides, he spanned the distance across the nursery, his massive right hand locking around Sarah’s throat before her brain could even register the breach.
He lifted her entirely off her feet with one arm, slamming her violently back-first against the concrete wall behind the bookshelf.
CRASH!
The force of the impact shook the entire room, sending books and crystal ornaments cascading to the floor. Sarah’s eyes bulged in pure terror, her legs kicking uselessly in mid-air as Ricardo’s fingers tightened around her windpipe.
The silver syringe dropped from her paralyzed fingers, shattering on the stone hearth below.
Dante and four armed guards rushed into the room behind Ricardo, their assault rifles raised, instantly securing the perimeter.
"Daddy!" Leo screamed from beneath the teepee.
Ricardo didn't look at his son. His hazel eyes were black with a lethal, absolute fury that made the air in the nursery feel freezing cold.
"You," Ricardo whispered, his voice dangerously smooth, his thumb pressing into Sarah’s carotid artery just enough to keep her on the edge of consciousness. "You were in my house. You touched my wife's tea."
Sarah made a wet, choking sound, her hands clawing desperately at Ricardo’s iron wrist, but his arm didn't move an inch. He looked like a statue carved out of stone and vengeance.
"Don... Don Antonio..." Sarah choked out, her face turning a deep, terrifying purple. "He... he promised..."
"My uncle cannot save you here," Ricardo said softly.
He leaned in close to her ear, his voice dropping into a whisper that sent chills straight down my spine. "Nobody can save you from me."
"Ricardo, stop!" I gasped, pushing myself up from the floor, wiping the blood from my jaw. "Don't kill her in front of Leo!"
Ricardo’s head turned slowly toward me. The blinding rage in his eyes flickered, fighting against the sound of my voice. He looked down at Leo, who was huddled near my feet, trembling, watching his father holding the woman off the ground.
Ricardo closed his eyes for one brief second, taking a deep, shuddering breath.
He relaxed his grip just enough to let Sarah drop to the floor in a heap. She collapsed onto her hands and knees, coughing violently, gasping for air, weeping in terror.
"Dante," Ricardo commanded coldly, stepping over her. "Take her to the basement at the Brooklyn docks. Strip her of everything. Make sure she stays alive until I arrive."
"With pleasure, Don Moretti," Dante grunted, grabbing Sarah by her hair and dragging her out of the room like a sack of trash while she begged for mercy.
The remaining guards quickly cleared out, pulling the broken oak door shut behind them, leaving the three of us alone in the ruined nursery.
Ricardo knelt down on the carpet beside me. His hands were shaking slightly—not from fear, but from the massive adrenaline dump coursing through his veins.
He reached out, his thumb gently wiping a drop of blood from the corner of my lip. His touch was surprisingly soft, completely at odds with the monster who had just lifted a woman by her neck three seconds ago.
"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice low and raspy.
"I'm fine," I breathed, pulling the leather diary from my back pocket and holding it out to him along with the vials of thallium. "Elena left this. For you. She hid it in Leo's music box."
Ricardo took the diary. His hands trembled as he opened the cover, his eyes scanning his late wife's desperate, final words.
As he read, the color completely drained from his face. A tear—single, clear, and burning hot—escaped his right eye, tracing a path down his cheek before he quickly wiped it away with the back of his hand.
"She knew," Ricardo whispered, his voice cracking with a pain he had hidden from the world for eight months. "She knew Antonio was doing it, and she tried to protect us."
He looked up at me, his hazel eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my breath catch in my throat.
"You saved my son's life today, Maya," Ricardo said softly. "You took a blow to the head from a killer to protect a boy who isn't even yours."
"He needed someone to stay," I said quietly, looking over at Leo, who had crawled out from under the teepee and was now sitting beside us, leaning his head against my knee. "I promised him I would stay."
Ricardo looked down at his son, then back at me.
"Antonio thinks he’s going to take my family down with an indictment tonight," Ricardo said, his expression hardening into iron once more as he stood up. "He’s calling an emergency meeting of the Commission at midnight at the Plaza Hotel to strip me of my title and hand the family over to his crew."
He held out his hand to pull me up from the floor.
"Get dressed, Maya," Ricardo said smoothly. "You and Leo are coming with me to the Plaza."
May you like
I blinked in shock. "To a Commission meeting? Ricardo, that’s insane! It’s a room full of mob bosses!"
"It's not a meeting," Ricardo smiled—a dark, lethal grin that promised blood. "It's an execution. And I want the whole city to see who really rules New York."
