Chapter 43
In the ruthless world of the Mafia, absolute peace is merely a fragile illusion waiting to be violently shattered. The warning came on a Tuesday afternoon. Domenico was in his subterranean command center, reviewing logistics, when Tony burst through the reinforced steel doors. The bodyguard's fair skin was pale with sudden, electric tension. "Boss," Tony reported, his voice tight. "We have a critical perimeter breach. A rogue faction of Cassano loyalists disguised themselves as a private landscaping crew. They bypassed the outer gates during the shift change." Domenico’s intimidating eyes narrowed into dark, lethal slits. The artistic tattoos on his hands flexed as he gripped the edge of the mahogany table. "Where are they?" he demanded, his voice a low, vibrating hum of pure danger. "They are moving toward the eastern gardens, sir," Tony answered. "Evelyn and Ruby are out there." The terrifying, cold control of the Mafia boss shattered instantly, replaced by the apocalyptic fury of a father. Domenico did not grab a tactical vest. He drew his heavy, matte-black suppressed sidearm from his shoulder holster and sprinted out of the room, moving with the blinding, explosive speed of a hunting panther.
