Chapter 9 - Shadows at the GateWhile the dining room downstairs was filled with the warm, rich scent of garlic, basil, and melted mozzarella, a mile away in a sleek black Mercedes parked in an unlit alley, two men were watching through high-powered binoculars.
"Verrone thinks he's won," a voice hissed from the dark interior of the car. It was Marcus Vance, Viktor’s younger brother and the new self-appointed head of the splintered western syndicate. "He thinks cleaning house and playing suburban dad makes him untouchable."
He lowered the binoculars, revealing a face twisted with pure hatred. His brother was rotting in a federal cell, and his family's multi-million-dollar heroin pipeline had been permanently severed.
"What's the play, boss?" the driver asked, resting his hand on the steering wheel. "The estate is locked down tighter than Fort Knox. Rafael Conti has patrols every twenty minutes."
Marcus smiled, pulling a heavy, suppressed sniper rifle from the floorboards and checking the bolt.
"We don't go through the gates, Carlo," Marcus murmured, sliding a specialized armor-piercing round into the chamber. "We don't need to break into the mansion. We just wait for Verrone to step out onto the balcony with his little pet."
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He raised the rifle, peering through the crosshairs at the brightly lit third-floor balcony of the Verrone estate.
"Every king falls," Marcus whispered into the cold night air. "And Verrone's time is up."
