Chapter 8 - The Empire ReclaimedThe warehouse fell into a tense, heavy silence, broken only by the steady patter of rain against the metal roof and the groans of the defeated Bratva enforcers.
Nikolai Ivanov lay flat on his back, staring up into the amber eyes of the massive dog standing on his chest. The fear in Nikolai's eyes was absolute. He realized too late that Vincent Moretti hadn't gone soft at all—he had simply expanded his pack.
Vincent walked slowly toward them, his leather shoes clicking against the wet floor. He stopped right beside Nikolai, looking down as if inspecting a piece of trash on his shoe.
"You thought my daughter was a weakness," Vincent said softly, his voice dangerously calm. "You thought attacking my home would break me."
"Do it," Nikolai spat, blood leaking from his lip. "Kill me, and the commission will tear your empire apart from the inside out."
Vincent let out a cold, humorless chuckle. "The commission doesn't exist anymore, Nikolai. As of twenty minutes ago, my men have secured every single asset, warehouse, and dock you owned from Brooklyn to the Bronx. You don't have an empire left to defend."
Vincent leaned down, his face inches from Nikolai's. "And you threatened the only thing in this world that matters to me. For that, you're leaving New York tonight. You'll spend the rest of your life in a Siberian labor camp where nobody will ever hear the name Ivanov again."
Marcus and two heavy guards hauled Nikolai to his feet, dragging him screaming toward the dark vans waiting outside in the rain.
As the doors slammed shut and the vehicles sped away into the stormy night, the tension finally drained out of the warehouse. Vincent turned around, looking at me across the open concrete floor. The cold, terrifying mafia boss vanished for a split second, replaced by a man who had just won the war of his life.
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"Well," Vincent said, a faint, genuine smile finally touching the corners of his mouth. "It seems the shelter manager was right. You really do know how to handle wild animals."
I wiped the rain from my forehead, letting out a long breath. "I told you from the beginning, Vincent. He wasn't a liability. He was just waiting for the right fight."
