Chapter 1 - The Traitor in the MirrorThe sterile hum of the hospital room was broken only by the steady, rhythmic beep of the heart monitor and the soft, steady breathing of the dog curled at the foot of the bed. Bruno hadn’t moved in six hours. When the nurses tried to change Tony’s IV or adjust his bandages, the dog didn’t snarl anymore—he just planted his front paws over Tony’s ankles like a furry anchor, refusing to let anyone pull him away.
Outside room 402, Detective Miller stood under the fluorescent lights, rubbing his tired eyes. The bullet had missed Tony’s heart by less than two inches, but the sheer blood loss had kept him under.
"Detective," a sharp voice cut through the corridor.
Miller turned to see Agent Vance from the Federal Bureau's Organized Crime division striding down the hall, flanked by two armed agents. Vance looked like a man who ate concrete for breakfast and washed it down with bad coffee.
"Vance. You're far from your federal courthouse," Miller said, stepping away from the door to block the entrance.
"We got a ping on the encrypted satellite phone recovered from Tony’s car dashboard," Vance said, his voice a low, gravelly rasp. "An incoming transmission sent three minutes ago. From an internal IP address. Someone inside Tony’s own syndicate is trying to wipe his digital ledger clean before he wakes up."
Miller narrowed his eyes. "And you think it's Marco."
"Marco is the underboss. He stands to inherit millions if Tony dies tonight," Vance snapped, pulling a file from his coat. "Or, more likely, he's tying up loose ends because the hit on Tony was an inside job from the very beginning. Move aside, Miller. We’re seizing the phone and hauling Marco in."
"Not yet," Miller said, his hand dropping casually near his service weapon. "Tony’s crew is already mobilizing on the streets. If you kick down Marco's door without proof tonight, turf wars will explode across every borough by sunrise. Let Tony wake up. Let him look his killer in the eye."
Vance glared at the detective, stepping closer. "You're playing a dangerous game, Miller. Men like Tony don't change. They bleed, they recover, and then they slaughter."
May you like
Inside the room, the heart monitor suddenly spiked. Beep-beep-beep-beep.
Bruno’s head shot up. His ears pinned back, and a low, warning rumble vibrated through the floorboards.
