Chapter 2 - The Trap SpringsA cold metallic click echoed in the enclosed hallway.
Dominic’s survival instincts—honed by two decades at the brutal peak of the Chicago and New York syndicates—flared instantly. His right hand instinctively swept toward his shoulder holster, but he froze when a cold, heavy gun barrel pressed against the back of his neck.
"Don't even think about it, Moretti," a raspy, unfamiliar voice hissed from the stairs.
Elena gasped, pressing her hands over her mouth. "No! Vincent, you promised you wouldn't hurt him!"
Stepping down from the shadows was Vincent Rossi, a high-ranking lieutenant from the rival Maroni syndicate whom Dominic had supposedly driven out of the tri-state area four years ago.
Vincent smirked, his suit rumpled, a jagged scar cutting across his left jawline. "Surprise, Dominic. Did you really think Elena's clever little vanishing act was her own idea? We needed a ghost to break your focus, and nothing shatters a kingpin like grief."
Dominic’s jaw clenched until the bone ached. Every muscle in his body coiled like a steel spring. He hadn't brought his full enforcer detail—he had walked alone behind little Lily in the rain, blinded by shock.
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"You used her," Dominic growled, his eyes fixed on Vincent through the reflection of the glass door panel.
"We protected her," Vincent corrected smoothly, nudging the gun barrel deeper into Dominic’s neck. "And now, you're going to hand over the North Pier shipping routes and sign away your controlling stake in the syndicate holdings, or little Lily and her dear mother get a front-row seat to your execution."
