Chapter 1 - The Scars of Broad StreetThe rain began to fall in heavy, greasy drops, hissing as it hit the hot exhaust pipes of the idling SUVs. Dominic Moretti did not feel the cold. He held his daughter, Lia, against his chest like a man clinging to the last spar of a sinking ship. The child’s skin burned with an unnatural, chemical heat—a fever that smelled faintly of bitter almonds and stale copper.
"Matteo," Dominic’s voice was a low, vibrating growl that cut through the hiss of the rain. "Get the medic in the back vehicle. Now."
Matteo didn't move toward the car; his eyes were fixed on the shadows at the mouth of the alley. "Dominic... did you hear what she said? A bird tattoo. There’s only one crew in South Philly that uses the raven crest. The Santoro family."
Dominic shifted Lia into the arms of his trusted bodyguard, Luca, with a tenderness that defied his reputation. He stood up slowly, his coat sweeping the wet asphalt. He turned his gaze to Nora Ellis, the waitress who had saved his world from collapsing into total darkness. She was shivering violently, her thin diner uniform soaked through, hugging her arms as the wind whipped through the brick corridor.
"You," Dominic said, stepping closer. "What is your name again?"
"Nora," she stammered, her teeth chattering, yet her chin remained stubbornly lifted. "Nora Ellis. Look, Mr. Moretti, I don't care who you are or what kind of war you're fighting. That little girl needs a hospital, not a turf war."
Dominic reached into his breast pocket, pulled out a thick wad of hundred-dollar bills, and held them out. Nora stared at the money, then slowly looked up into his hardened, coal-black eyes.
"Take it," Dominic commanded. "It's enough to pay off whatever debt you're hiding from, and buy a new coat. Luca will take you to Mercy Hospital. You stay with her until I get there."
"I don't want your blood money," Nora said, her voice shaking with a sudden spike of pride and anger. "I want to know she’s going to live."
Dominic stared at her for a long, agonizing beat. For a man who bought loyalty with fear, her defiance was a foreign, intoxicating language.
"She lives," Dominic whispered, turning toward his SUV. "And so do you. Because if you hadn't answered that phone at midnight, Nora Ellis, I would have burned this entire city to find you. Get in the car."
May you like
As the vehicles peeled out of the alley, leaving the echoing sirens of the city far behind, Dominic pulled out his encrypted satellite phone. He dialed a three-digit code.
"Find every rat wearing a raven tattoo in the tri-state area," Dominic said, his voice dropping into a register of pure, frozen fury. "Skin them if you have to. I want to know who touched my daughter."
