Chapter 7 - THE WATCH
“No,” Dante whispered, staring into the open face of the gold pocket watch.
Harper watched Dante’s hands begin to shake. The massive, scarred enforcer looked as though he had just been physically struck.
“What is it?” Harper asked softly, unable to stand the silence.
“It’s a micro-engraving,” Victor said, his eyes never leaving Dante. “My father was a paranoid man. He engraved the serial numbers of every payoff, every bribe, every dirty contract into the inner casing of his watches. That watch contains the serial number of the wire transfer that paid off the police after your wife’s death, Dante.”
Dante looked up, his eyes wide and horrified. “The account... it traces back to Roman. The Russian boss.”
“Yes,” Victor said. “Roman ran your wife off the road. Julian was trying to stop him. Julian died trying to save her. I didn’t cover it up to protect my brother, Dante. I buried the report because I didn’t have the manpower to go to war with the Russians ten years ago. I was waiting for the right moment.”
A loud DING echoed through the penthouse.
The elevator doors slid open.
Five men in dark tactical gear poured into the room, assault rifles raised. At the center of the formation stood Roman, a towering man with a thick gray beard and dead, shark-like eyes.
“Well, well,” Roman chuckled, stepping onto the plush rug. His accent was thick and brutal. “A family reunion in the dark. Dante, you did good. Put Victor on his knees. I want to look him in the eye when I take his crown.”
Dante didn’t move. He stood perfectly still between Victor and the heavily armed Russians.
“I said,” Roman barked, “put him on his knees.”
Dante slowly snapped the gold pocket watch shut. He slipped it into his pocket.
Then, with lightning speed, Dante spun around and opened fire on Roman’s men.
The penthouse erupted into chaos.
Deafening gunfire shattered the floor-to-ceiling windows. Glass rained down like diamond dust in the moonlight.
“Get down!” Victor roared, diving toward Harper and Leo.
He tackled them both to the floor just as a spray of bullets tore through the drywall where they had been standing. Victor rolled, coming up on one knee, firing his weapon with deadly precision.
Two Russians dropped instantly.
Dante took down a third before taking a bullet to the thigh. The massive security chief grunted, collapsing behind the heavy oak desk, returning fire blindly over the top.
Harper covered Leo’s body with her own, burying his face in Victor’s heavy coat. She couldn’t scream. The noise was too loud, too physical.
Suddenly, the firing stopped.
The silence that followed was thick with gunpowder and the smell of copper.
“Enough!” Roman’s voice bellowed.
Harper lifted her head.
Roman was bleeding from a graze on his cheek, but he was standing over Dante. He had his heavy boot pressed against Dante’s throat, and a pistol aimed squarely at the security chief’s head.
“Drop the gun, Victor,” Roman panted, a cruel smile spreading across his face. “Or your loyal dog loses his head.”
Victor stood up slowly from behind the sofa. He kept his weapon aimed at Roman.
“Let him go, Roman. This is between you and me.”
“Everything is between you and me, Victor,” Roman spat. “You took the docks. You took the unions. And now, this little girl’s father stole my money. I want her dead, and I want your territory. Surrender, or the kid is next.”
To prove his point, Roman reached into his pocket with his free hand and threw something onto the floor.
It landed near Victor’s feet with a heavy, metallic clatter.
May you like
It was a silver rosary.
Victor looked down at it, and the color drained completely from his face.
