Chapter 6 - Dark Knight of New YorkThe flashbang detonated with a deafening CRACK and a blinding white light.
The shockwave knocked me backward, my ears ringing violently, my vision swimming in stark white haze. I forced myself up on bleeding hands and knees, fighting past the agony.
When the smoke cleared, the wedge had been yanked free. The blast door was wide open.
The safe room was empty.
A single pink backpack lay scattered on the floor, surrounded by crayon drawings.
"ELENA! LILA!" I screamed into the silent hallway, my voice echoing like a wounded beast.
Viktor rushed into the corridor, covered in soot and blood, his rifle drawn. "Boss! They had a secondary team come through the sub-basement tunnel! They grabbed them and pulled back to the helicopters!"
I stood in the center of the ruined hallway, trembling with unbridled, terrifying rage. The wall of restraint I had built over thirty-five years disintegrated completely.
I picked up Lila’s crayon drawing from the floor—the one with the black heart drawn between the man and the girl.
"Assemble everyone," I said, my voice dropping into a register so cold, so dark, that even Viktor took a step back in fear.
"Every soldier. Every asset. Every dirty politician, corrupt cop, and street syndicate boss on our payroll," I commanded, staring at the drawing in my bloodstained hand.
"Tonight, we aren't just fighting a war, Viktor. Tonight, we burn Vincent’s empire to the ground and scatter the ashes into the river."
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Within two hours, New York City was brought to a dead standstill. My private army executed coordinated raids on twelve of Vincent's strongholds simultaneously. Warehouses exploded in Queens. Money-laundering fronts in Manhattan were dismantled. His associates were dragged into the street one by one until a terrifying ultimatum echoed across the underworld:
Give Luca Moretti his daughter, or no one survives the night.
