Chapter 6 - Wrath of the King
Arthur kicked the heavy mahogany doors of his study open so violently they cracked against the wall.
He walked into the command center, his face a mask of absolute, terrifying calm.
That calm was exactly what made his men start sweating.
“Where is she?” Arthur asked.
His voice did not echo; it absorbed the air in the room.
The captain of the guard stepped forward, trembling.
“Boss, she slipped out through the gardens.”
“The west gate was breached from the inside.”
Arthur walked to the massive oak table and slammed his fist down, cracking the solid wood.
“Nobody breaches my gates without inside codes!” he roared, finally unleashing the beast.
He turned his dead eyes toward Enzo.
Enzo tried to maintain a look of shocked concern, but his pulse was beating too fast in his neck.
Arthur saw it instantly.
He crossed the room in two massive strides, grabbing Enzo by the throat and lifting the underboss entirely off the floor.
“What did you do?” Arthur hissed.
“Boss, I swear, I didn't—” Enzo choked, his face turning purple.
Arthur slammed him against the brick wall.
“You think I don't know the smell of a traitor?”
“You think I didn't notice you moving the patrol routes away from the west wall this morning?”
Arthur drew his heavy pistol and pressed the barrel directly between Enzo’s eyes.
“I am going to ask you one time.”
“Where did they take her?”
Enzo’s resolve crumbled under the threat of immediate execution.
“The old shipyard,” Enzo gasped.
“Warehouse four.”
“The Falcones have her.”
Arthur dropped his oldest friend to the floor.
He did not hesitate.
He raised his weapon and put a bullet through Enzo’s chest.
The underboss collapsed, dead before he hit the carpet.
The room fell deathly silent.
Arthur turned to his remaining captains, his white shirt splattered with blood.
“Call everyone.”
“Bring every weapon we have.”
“We are going to war.”
Within twenty minutes, a convoy of heavily armored black SUVs roared out of the estate gates.
Arthur sat in the lead car, loading magazines with mechanical, ruthless precision.
May you like
He was not going to negotiate for Clara.
He was going to tear the city apart brick by brick until she was back in his arms.
