Chapter 7 - The Long Night
Midnight descended upon New York like a lead blanket. Inside the grand estate, all the lights were turned off except for the dim amber glows of the hallway lamps. Grace sat wide awake in the nursery, rocking a sleeping Ivy in her arms, humming a soft lullaby while the city outside hummed with hidden violence.
Miles away, in an abandoned shipping warehouse by the East River, Marcus Vitale stood in the center of a concrete room surrounded by shadows.
"You're a fool, Marcus," a raspy voice echoed from the darkness. Salvatore stepped into the dim light, flanked by half a dozen armed men. "Hiding a woman and a brat in your fancy mansion. Did you really think we wouldn't find out? A mafia boss growing soft over domestic life. You're finished."
Marcus didn't blink. He stood tall, his hands resting calmly at his sides. "You should have stayed in Sicily, Salvatore. You should have kept your eyes off what is mine."
Before Salvatore could raise his weapon, the windows of the warehouse shattered inward. Dante and a dozen elite operatives moved through the glass like ghosts, subverting Salvatore's men in a swift, silent blur of tactical precision.
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Salvatore spun around in panic, but a heavy hand gripped his shoulder from behind. Marcus spun him around and delivered a devastating blow that dropped the traitor to the concrete floor.
"It's over," Marcus said coldly, stepping over him as Dante's men secured the area.
