Chapter 4 - The Gate and the Gun
The rain was falling in heavy, steady sheets as I walked down the long, winding driveway toward the heavy wrought-iron gates of the estate. High-powered floodlights mounted on the perimeter guard towers cut through the darkness, illuminating the muddy road ahead.
Behind the iron bars of the gate sat three sleek black SUVs, their high beams blindingly bright. Eight men in heavy leather coats stood beside the vehicles, their hands tucked into their pockets, clearly gripping concealed weapons.
At the center of the group stood Dante Moretti.
Dante was thirty, the arrogant, reckless heir to the Moretti crime empire. He wore a tailored wool coat that was being ruined by the rain, his dark hair slicked back, a silver toothpick hanging from the corner of his mouth.
When he saw me walking down the driveway flanked by Dominic and six of my most lethal enforcers, his smirking composure wavered for a fraction of a second before he recovered his cocky posture.
"Elias Falcone!" Dante called out over the sound of the idling engines and the falling rain. "Long time no see, old man! I'd say it’s good to see you, but you look like you're ready for a funeral!"
I stopped five feet from the closed iron gate, my hands resting calmly inside the pockets of my long coat. "You're on my land, Dante."
"Technically, I'm standing on public county road outside your gate," Dante chuckled, flicking his silver toothpick into the mud. "Look, let's keep this simple. I know you've got your own problems to deal with, what with the storm and your washed-out bridge. I’m just here to pick up something that escaped from my family's compound two months ago."
"My estate isn't a lost-and-found for Moretti garbage," I said coldly.
Dante’s smile faded, his dark eyes narrowing into slits. "Don't play dumb with me, Falcone. We tracked her phone signal before she dumped it in the woods near your property line. She's been hiding in your house, working as a maid under the name Anna Reed."
"I don't have a maid named Anna Reed," I lied smoothly.
"Her real name is Adeline Vance," Dante snapped, stepping right up to the iron bars. "She’s a fugitive, Elias. She stole legal documents that belong to the Moretti family, and she’s carrying something that belongs to me."
My blood ran cold as I remembered the newborn baby sleeping upstairs in my guest room.
"She doesn't belong to you," I said, taking a slow step toward the gate. "And neither does anything she carries."
Dante leaned against the iron bars, a nasty, predatory grin spreading across his face. "So you do know who she is. Tell me, old man... did she tell you about her baby? Did she tell you that the kid she’s carrying belongs to my little brother, Marco? That child is a Moretti heir. And my father wants his grandchild back."
The realization hit me like a physical blow, but I didn't let a single emotion show on my face. The marks on Adeline’s body, the desperate terror in her eyes, her insistence that she would rather die than go to a hospital—she had been kept captive by the Morettis, forced into a nightmare, until she managed to escape.
"Your brother Marco is a sadistic monster who belongs in a shallow grave," I said softly, my voice carrying over the wind like a death sentence.
Dante scoffed, reaching inside his coat. "Hand her over, Falcone. You don't want a war with the Moretti family over a broken-down union boss's daughter. Your glory days are over. You've been rotting in this house since your wife died."
The moment he mentioned Rosalind, Dominic raised his submachine gun, aiming it straight at Dante's chest. The six Moretti enforcers behind Dante instantly drew their handguns, pointing them through the gate at us.
The air snapped with lethal tension. A single twitch of a finger would turn the driveway into a slaughterhouse.
I didn't draw my weapon. I simply looked at Dante through the iron bars, my eyes completely empty of warmth.
"Listen to me very carefully, Dante," I said, my voice quiet, flat, and absolute. "If you or any member of your family takes one step across my property line tonight, tomorrow, or at any point in the future, I will not just kill you. I will hunt down every person who carries the Moretti name in this state. I will burn your clubs, I will seize your assets, and I will erase your family from the waterfront."
Dante stared at me, his breath hitching slightly as he realized I wasn't making a tactical threat. I was stating a absolute fact.
"You're protecting her?" Dante asked, disbelief lacing his voice. "Why? What is she to you?"
"She is under the protection of the Falcone family," I said. "That is all you need to know. Now get off my road before I decide to keep you here permanently."
Dante held my gaze for ten agonizing seconds. Slowly, he raised his hand, signaling his men to lower their weapons.
"This isn't over, Falcone," Dante spat, backing away toward his black SUV. "My father won't let this go. That girl holds the key to the entire shipping terminal, and we are going to take it from her. Enjoy playing white knight while it lasts."
He climbed into the passenger seat, slammed the door, and the three SUVs backed up violently down the muddy logging trail, disappearing into the dark forest.
May you like
Dominic lowered his weapon, letting out a long breath. "Boss... they'll be back. And next time, they won't bring eight men. They'll bring fifty."
"Let them," I said, turning my back on the gate and walking back toward the mansion. "Call our captains in the city. Tell them to mobilize every soldier we have. The war Rosalind tried to prevent three years ago starts tonight."
