flash

Chapter 4 - The Truth About the AccidentThe emergency backup lights flickered on, casting a dim, sickly red glow over the hallway. My mother stood amidst the shattered glass and smoke, her white suit stained with soot, her hair disheveled, but her eyes burning with an insane, unyielding fury.

“You think a few loyalists and an unfaithful girl can overthrow decades of power?” she hissed, slowly lowering her small pistol as she realized she was outgunned. Instead, a chilling smile crept across her lips. “You always were too soft, Dante. Just like your father.”

My grip on my weapon tightened. “What did you just say about my father?”

“You think he died in a car accident in Sicily twenty years ago?” My mother laughed softly, a sound that sent chills down my spine. “He tried to show mercy to an enemy, too. He wanted to walk away from the syndicate and raise you in a quiet little town. So, I had his brakes cut. Just like I was going to cut your wife’s life short today.”

The floor seemed to drop out from beneath me. The man I had mourned my entire life, the legend I had tried to live up to, hadn't been killed by rivals. He had been murdered by the woman standing in front of me.

“You murdered him...” I whispered, the weight of the revelation crushing my chest.

“I preserved the Rossi dynasty!” she screamed, stepping closer, daring me to shoot her. “And I would do it a thousand times over! If you kill me now, the entire syndicate will tear itself apart within twenty-four hours. Every rival family will smell blood in the water. Without me holding the council together, you won't survive a week.”

“I don't care about the syndicate,” I said coldly, raising the barrel of my gun straight to her eye level. “The Rossi name dies with you today.”

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Before I could pull the trigger, the entire floor shook violently. An explosion rocked the upper levels of the estate, blowing out the reinforced windows at the end of the hallway and filling the air with thick, choking smoke.

Through the haze, heavy footsteps echoed from the stairs—and it wasn't my loyalists. It was an invasion.

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