Chapter 10 - The Reign Restored
Before Moretti could open his mouth to issue an order, a sharp, deafening explosion ripped through the western perimeter of the dry docks.
BOOM.
A towering fireball erupted into the night sky as a stolen fuel truck driven by one of my loyal captains plowed directly through Moretti’s primary armory container, sending shockwaves rolling across the asphalt and throwing his sniper teams off the catwalks in a shower of steel and fire.
Simultaneously, the red laser dots painting my chest vanished as fifty heavily armed Mercer enforcers poured out from the shadows of the surrounding warehouses, trapping Moretti’s men in a brutal, inescapable crossfire.
Chaos erupted in a heartbeat. Gunfire cracked through the night air like thunder, drowning out the roar of the East River.
Moretti leaped out of his chair, his face twisting in blind panic as he reached inside his coat for his pistol.
He never cleared leather.
Before his fingers could wrap around the grip of his gun, I raised my SIG Sauer and fired.
The silenced bullet caught Moretti squarely in the right shoulder, spinning him around and slamming him down hard onto the folding table. The metal buckled under his weight, spilling the coffee cups and papers onto the gravel.
His four bodyguards tried to raise their Uzis, but Viktor and Leo were already moving with lethal, mechanical speed. Two quick bursts of suppressed fire dropped the bodyguards before they could squeeze a single round.
I walked slowly across the gravel, the noise of the surrounding firefight fading into a distant hum in my ears, until I was standing directly over Moretti.
He was clutching his bleeding shoulder, writhing in pain on the ground, staring up at me with eyes wide with absolute, primal terror. The arrogant cartel boss was gone, replaced by a broken, bleeding man begging for his life.
“L-Luke... wait...” Moretti choked out, coughing up a spray of dark blood onto the asphalt. “We... we can negotiate... partnership... fifty-fifty—وو
I crouched down beside him, placing the cold barrel of my pistol directly against the center of his forehead.
“There is no partnership,” I whispered, my voice calm, steady, and final. “There is only the Mercer crown. And anyone who reaches for it loses their hands.”
I pulled the trigger.
The gunfire across the dry docks sputtered and died out within thirty seconds.
Silence descended once more over the Brooklyn waterfront, broken only by the crackle of burning debris and the gentle wash of the river against the rotting piers.
Viktor stepped up beside me, wiping a smudge of soot from his cheek, looking down at Moretti’s body without a trace of emotion.
“Area is secured, Boss,” Viktor reported crisply. “All of Moretti’s captains are either neutralized or running for the state line. New York belongs to us again.”
I stood up, sliding my pistol back into its shoulder holster, brushing a speck of dust from the sleeve of my coat.
“Clean this up,” I ordered, turning toward the waiting SUV. “I have somewhere I need to be.”
The digital clock on the dashboard of the SUV read 3:42 a.m. when we pulled back into the secure parking bay of St. Catherine’s Hospital.
I didn't wait for Leo to park. I jumped out, crossed the lobby, and took the stairs to the third floor, my boots echoing softly against the clean, quiet hospital corridor.
When I pushed open the door to Room 347, the room was bathed in the same soft, warm amber glow from the bedside lamp.
Elena was awake.
She was sitting up slightly against the pillows, reading a paperback book, but the moment the door clicked open, her head snapped up. Her amber eyes locked onto mine, searching my face, my coat, my hands.
She was looking for blood. She was looking for signs of a war.
She found none.
I walked slowly to the side of the bed, pulled off my heavy coat, tossed it onto the armchair, and sat down in the chair beside her mattress. I took her hand in mine, pressing my palm flat against her warm, smooth skin.
“It’s over,” I whispered, the exhaustion of the past week finally melting away as I looked into her eyes. “Moretti is gone. The traitors are purged. Nobody will ever touch you or our child again. You are safe, Elena. Truly safe.”
Elena let out a long, shuddering breath, a brilliant, breathtaking smile breaking across her face—the first real smile I had seen in three agonizing months.
She reached up with her free hand, cupping my cheek gently, her thumb brushing against my jawline.
“I knew you’d come back to me,” she whispered softly.
May you like
I leaned into her touch, closing my eyes, breathing in the scent of lavender and life.
“Always,” I murmured. “Now and forever.”
