Chapter 54
The crisp, suppressed crack of Domenico’s weapon echoed through the freezing rail yard. The arrogant Morello lieutenant dropped instantly to the gravel, a flawless, surgical shot perfectly centered in his chest. The remaining mercenaries panicked, scrambling frantically to raise their automatic rifles. Domenico did not seek cover. He advanced relentlessly, an immovable force of pure, sociopathic detachment. He fired with terrifying, robotic precision. Three more men fell before Tony and the elite Falcone bodyguards even opened fire. The sheer, overwhelming violence that Domenico projected completely shattered the cartel's morale. "Drop your weapons!" Tony roared, his American accent cutting through the chaos. The surviving mercenaries threw their guns onto the dirt, dropping to their knees in absolute, unadulterated terror. Domenico smoothly holstered his weapon, adjusting his overcoat. His handsome, movie-star face was carved in cold stone. He looked down at the trembling men, his sharp eyes devoid of any human empathy. "Tell your Don," Domenico murmured, his volume incredibly low. "If another train crosses my border, I will come to the West Coast, and I will burn his empire to ashes."
