Chapter 35
The surviving Cassano mercenaries threw their weapons onto the concrete, dropping to their knees in absolute, unadulterated terror. They raised their hands, begging for a mercy that Domenico Falcone did not possess. The bright video colors of the burning freighter reflected in Domenico's cold, sharp eyes. He walked slowly toward the kneeling men. "You thought you could walk into my home," Domenico murmured, his deep, raspy voice sending shivers down their spines. "Who commands your operations in this region?" A trembling, fair-skinned mercenary looked up, tears streaking his rosy cheeks. "It's Don Cassano's son! Julian! He's running the expansion from a luxury penthouse in the financial district! Please, we were just following orders!" Domenico did not smile. He simply nodded to Tony. The suppressed cracks of gunfire echoed briefly across the pier, and the remaining mercenaries fell silent. Domenico turned his back on the carnage and walked to his SUV. The immediate threat at the ports was eradicated, but a rival heir operating within his city limits was an infection that required immediate, surgical removal. As the armored vehicle sped back toward the estate, Domenico pulled out his encrypted smartphone to check the security feeds of his home. The high-definition cameras showed Ruby playing happily in the heavily fortified gardens, watched over by a dozen elite guards. The sight of his four-year-old daughter anchored his humanity, but it also fueled the monstrous, protective rage burning in his chest. He would not allow a single threat to breathe the same air as his child. Julian Cassano was a dead man.
