Chapter 9 - The Final Reckoning
Working in tandem through the corridors of the burning mansion felt like a surreal, adrenaline-fueled fever dream. Dominic covered the angles with ruthless, calculated efficiency, while I moved behind him like a tactical shadow, patching up minor grazes, supplying ammunition, and making sure he didn't collapse from internal bleeding.
By the time Leo and his remaining loyal guards counter-attacked from the east wing, trapping the Moretti strike team in a devastating crossfire, the battle was effectively over. Silence descended once more upon the mountain fortress, broken only by the crackle of a burning side veranda and the groans of captured intruders being dragged downstairs.
We stood in the grand foyer amid shattered marble, broken glass, and drifting smoke. Dominic’s shirt was soaked through with fresh crimson, his face pale under the harsh strobe of emergency lights, but he was standing straight, the undisputed master of his domain.
“Boss,” Leo panted, walking up with a bleeding forearm and a grim expression. “The perimeter is secure. The Moretti capos are detained in the courtyard.”
Dominic gave a slow, cold nod. “Bring them up. I want to have a conversation.”
“You’re having that conversation from a hospital bed or a surgical table, Mr. Rossi, or I swear to God I will sedate you right here on the foyer floor,” I stated, stepping directly in front of him with my arms crossed and a surgical syringe glinting in my hand.
Leo stared at me in sheer terror, waiting for Dominic to explode.
May you like
Instead, Dominic looked down at the syringe, then up at my fierce, uncompromising expression. A slow, genuine laugh escaped his lips, rich and deep despite the carnage around us.
“Fine,” Dominic surrendered, raising his hands in mock defeat. “Doctor’s orders. Leo, move the interrogation to the medical suite.”
