flash
The heavy mahogany doors of the east wing did not creak when Lorenzo pushed them open; they swung with a quiet, expensive finality, as if they knew better than to make a sound. / Chapter 7 / 10

Chapter 7 - The Midnight FlightThe black Mercedes swallowed the winding coastal road like a phantom, its headlights cutting jagged beams through the thick sea fog rolling in off the Tyrrhenian Sea.

In the back seat, Mia had finally fallen asleep, her head resting heavily against Clara’s lap, one small hand still clutching the silver medallion Lorenzo had given her. Clara stared out the window, watching the jagged cliffs blur past into the dark expanse of the water below.

Her mind was a whirlwind of terror and disbelief.

She had spent ten years running from her father's sins, hiding in the shadows of an empire built on blood and betrayal, only to be saved by the most feared man in the criminal underworld. Lorenzo Duca hadn't just spared her life; he had rewritten her entire existence with a stroke of a pen and the barrel of a gun.

Up front, Gianni kept his eyes locked on the road, his face expressionless.

"Mr. Gianni," Clara whispered softly, afraid to break the heavy silence of the car.

"Call me Gianni," the enforcer replied without turning his head.

"What happened to... to Donato Moretti?"

Gianni let out a short, humorless exhale through his nose. "Donato had a sudden medical emergency. Heart failure. Very tragic. The council has accepted his resignation from all syndicate affairs."

Clara swallowed hard. She knew what 'heart failure' meant in the Duca lexicon. It meant Moretti was currently feeding the crabs at the bottom of Palermo harbor.

"And the Boss?" Clara asked, her voice trembling slightly. "Will he be safe?"

Gianni finally glanced at her in the rearview mirror, his dark eyes flashing with a fierce, unwavering loyalty. "The Boss doesn't need to be safe, Clara. The Boss is the storm."

Suddenly, the Mercedes lurched violently as Gianni slammed on the brakes.

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Clara screamed, throwing her arms instinctively over sleeping Mia as the car skidded sideways across the wet asphalt, stopping just inches from a sheer drop into the crashing waves below.

From the fog ahead, three black SUVs materialized, their high beams blindingly bright, blocking the narrow mountain pass.

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