Chapter 7 - THE DOCKS
The rain was coming down in sheets by the time Luca’s black SUV pulled up to Pier 44.
I was sitting in the backseat, my heart hammering against my ribs. Luca sat beside me, checking the magazine of his weapon. Marco was driving, his face a mask of lethal focus. Joe and Leo had been left at the mansion, guarded by twenty heavily armed men.
“Stay in the car, Emma,” Luca ordered as he opened his door.
“No,” I said, grabbing his arm. “He’s my brother. I’m not waiting in the dark.”
Luca looked into my eyes. He saw the stubborn desperation there and gave a curt nod. “Stay exactly behind me. Do not step out of my shadow.”
We moved through the torrential rain, slipping between towering rusted shipping containers. The docks were eerily quiet, save for the sound of water slapping against the concrete pylons.
Ahead, a dim yellow light glowed from inside Warehouse 7.
Marco signaled silently to two of his men, who broke off to flank the building. Luca motioned for me to stay put behind a stack of wooden pallets near the entrance.
Through the cracked warehouse door, I could see them.
Three men in dark trench coats stood around a metal chair. Bound to the chair, battered and bleeding from his lip, was Sam. He looked terrified, but he was alive.
Standing in front of Sam was a man with a scarred face, holding a silver lighter.
“Time’s up, kid,” the scarred man said, flicking the lighter open. The flame illuminated his cruel eyes. “Looks like your sister didn’t care enough to bring the paper.”
“Leave him alone!” I screamed, unable to hold back. I stepped out from behind the pallets.
The scarred man spun around, pulling a gun.
But Luca was faster.
Two silenced shots echoed through the rain. The gun dropped from the scarred man's hand as he collapsed to his knees, clutching his shoulder.
Luca walked into the warehouse, his weapon raised, projecting an aura of pure, terrifying dominance. Marco and his men swarmed the room from the side entrances, immediately disarming the other two thugs and kicking them to the floor.
“Sam!” I rushed forward, dropping to my knees beside his chair. My hands shook as I untied the thick ropes binding his wrists.
“Emma?” Sam choked out, coughing. “What are you doing here? Who are these guys?”
“It’s okay,” I sobbed, hugging him tightly. “You’re safe. We’re going home.”
Luca stepped over the groaning scarred man. He looked down at him with absolute contempt.
“Tell Romano,” Luca said softly, “that the Gold Coast belongs to me. If anyone from your family steps foot in my city again, I will bury you in the tunnels you want so badly.”
The scarred man glared up at him. “You think you’ve won, Moretti? The old man is dead.”
Luca froze. “What?”
“Did you really think we only sent one team tonight?” the man spat a mouthful of blood onto the concrete. “While you came here to play hero, our boss went to the mansion. By now, the old firefighter and the bastard kid are dead.”
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My blood ran cold.
Luca’s face turned into a mask of pure horror. He didn’t say a word. He just turned and sprinted back into the rain toward the SUV.
