Chapter 8 - THE NECKLACE TORN FROM THE HEIRESS
Marco Caruso stepped into the harsh fluorescent light of the train platform.
At thirty years old, he was ambitious, ruthless, and completely devoid of his father’s lingering guilt.
He held a suppressed pistol in his right hand.
“My father is a sentimental old fool,” Marco sneered, looking at Dominic. “He called me before he tried to burn the house down. Told me to come to the station and make sure Samuel actually got on the train.”
Marco looked at Claire and the dog.
“Imagine my surprise when I find the entire Moretti problem tied up in a neat little bow on Gate 4.”
Dominic stepped instinctively in front of Claire and Samuel. He subtly moved his hand toward his jacket, but Marco’s men raised their rifles.
“Don't do it, Dominic,” Marco warned. “My men will cut you in half before your piece clears leather.”
“Your father is locked in my warehouse, Marco,” Dominic said, his voice entirely calm. “If I don't check in by 3:00 AM, my men have orders to skin him alive.”
Marco laughed. It was a hollow, empty sound.
“You think I care about that weak old man? He spent his entire life cleaning up your family’s messes. Tonight, I take the empire. I kill you, I kill the witnesses, and I tell the syndicate that Dominic Moretti died in a tragic house fire.”
Claire gripped her father’s arm. She was terrified, but she didn't look away from Marco.
“You won't get away with it,” Claire said.
Marco smirked at her. “Who’s going to stop me? The maid?”
Bruno let out a vicious snarl, stepping in front of Claire, baring his teeth.
“Shoot the dog first,” Marco ordered one of his men.
The enforcer raised his rifle.
“No!” Samuel screamed, diving in front of the animal.
“Captain, down!” Claire yelled.
But before the enforcer could pull the trigger, Dominic moved with terrifying speed.
He didn't draw his gun. He drew the silver rosary he was still holding.
With a brutal whip of his wrist, Dominic lashed the heavy silver crucifix directly across Marco’s face.
The metal tore open Marco’s cheek.
Marco screamed, dropping his pistol as blood blinded his right eye.
“Now!” Dominic roared.
Bruno didn't wait for a command. The massive German shepherd launched himself through the air, eighty pounds of pure muscle crashing into the enforcer with the rifle. The man went down hard, the gun clattering across the concrete.
Dominic drew his own weapon and fired two rapid shots, dropping the men on the left.
Samuel tackled the remaining guard, driving his shoulder into the man’s stomach with the desperate strength of a father protecting his child.
Claire scrambled across the floor, grabbing Marco’s dropped pistol.
She aimed it at Marco just as he wiped the blood from his eyes and reached for a backup knife.
“Don't move!” Claire screamed, her hands shaking but her grip tight.
Marco froze, staring down the barrel of his own gun held by a twenty-five-year-old housemaid.
Dominic quickly disarmed the groaning men on the floor. He kicked their weapons onto the train tracks.
He walked over to Marco.
“You forgot one thing about my family, Marco,” Dominic said coldly.
Dominic reached out and grabbed the thick gold chain hanging around Marco’s neck. With a violent yank, Dominic snapped the chain.
He held up the heavy gold necklace.
It wasn't just jewelry. It was the Caruso family seal.
“Without this,” Dominic whispered, tossing the necklace onto the train tracks, “you aren't a boss. You’re just a thug with a bleeding face.”
Marco dropped to his knees, utterly defeated.
Police sirens began wailing outside the station. The gunfire had triggered the alarms.
Dominic looked at Claire. She was still aiming the gun at Marco, her breathing ragged.
Dominic gently placed his hand over hers, lowering the weapon.
“It’s over, Claire,” Dominic said softly. “You don't have to shoot anyone. Let the police take the garbage out.”
Claire dropped the gun. She collapsed into her father’s arms, both of them crying tears of absolute relief.
Bruno trotted over, sitting proudly at their feet, his tail wagging for the first time in nine years.
Dominic looked at the broken family he had just helped repair.
He finally felt the ghost of his little sister let go.
But as the police burst through the station doors, Dominic noticed something lying on the floor where Marco had dropped his coat.
May you like
A glossy 8x10 photograph.
TITLE: THE PHOTOGRAPH OF THE HIDDEN HEIR
