Chapter 10 - The Rise of the Syndicate War and the Oath Taken in the Smoke
Within three minutes, the freight elevator gates rattled open with violent speed, and Marcus vaulted into the loft followed by four heavily armed men in dark tactical gear.
Marcus took one look at the scorched brick wall, the shattered glass, and Cara standing in the center of the haze with soot on her face.
"Secure the perimeter!" Marcus barked to his men, before stepping quickly toward her. "Miss Vitali, are you injured?"
"I'm fine," Cara coughed, waving away the lingering chemical smoke. "Just... shaken up. It was a Molotov cocktail. They threw it from the alley."
"Dominic Russo’s signature," Marcus said darkly, his jaw tightening into a hard line as he inspected the charred floorboards. "The old guard on the South Side. They thought sending a message to your loft would remind Mr. Moretti who controls the streets."
"They tried to kill me," Cara whispered, the reality of how close she had come to dying finally setting in.
"They didn't try to kill you," a deep, cold voice echoed from the elevator.
Marcus and his men stepped aside instantly.
Vito Moretti walked out of the elevator.
He wasn't wearing his suit jacket; his white shirt was rumpled, his sleeves rolled up, and his face was carved from dark, terrifying granite. There was no warmth in his eyes—only a vast, bottomless ocean of absolute, lethal fury.
He walked across the scorched floor, ignoring the soot, and stopped directly in front of Cara.
His hands came up, cupping her face with a gentleness that contrasted violently with the dark storm raging behind his eyes. His thumbs brushed the soot and the tears from her cheekbones.
"They didn't try to kill you," Vito repeated, his voice dangerously soft. "They declared war on me by using you as the target."
"Vito, don't," Cara pleaded, placing her hands over his wrists. "If this is a war—if they're coming after you because of me—"
"Listen to me, Cara," Vito interrupted, holding her gaze with a force that brook no argument. "When I built my world, I left the gates open just enough for men like Russo to believe they could still reach inside and touch what mattered to me. That was my mistake."
He turned his head toward Marcus.
"Burn the South Side shipping terminals," Vito commanded, his voice devoid of any human mercy. "Every warehouse, every ledger, every asset Russo owns. And bring me Dominic Russo before midnight."
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Marcus dipped his chin. "Consider it done, Mr. Moretti."
"No!" Cara grabbed Vito’s arm, her hazel eyes wide with panic. "Vito, you can't start a syndicate war over a broken window and a charred floor! You'll bring the entire federal government down on your head!"
