Chapter 7 - The Judgment of Russo
The storm outside was nothing compared to the violence that erupted inside the small suburban home.
The front door was kicked open, and two armed men rushed in. Dominic didn't hesitate. He fired twice, the deafening cracks echoing through the house as both men fell to the floor.
He moved with lethal, practiced precision, using the heavy wooden dining table as cover as more gunfire shredded the plaster walls. Paper snowflakes fluttered down from the ceiling like real snow, covered in dust and gunpowder.
"Dominic!" Vincent’s voice called out from the porch, raw and crazed with hatred. "Give me the boy and the girl, and maybe I’ll let you live to see tomorrow!"
"You'll have to take them from my cold hands, Uncle!" Dominic shouted back, firing a sequence of shots to keep Vincent’s remaining men pinned down behind the cars.
From the street, the sound of heavy engines roared.
Three black armored trucks slammed into the mercenaries' SUVs. Marco and a dozen of Dominic’s loyal soldiers poured out, weapons raised. The suburban street erupted into a brief, decisive firefight. Vincent’s men, outnumbered and outgunned, quickly threw down their weapons or were cut down in the snow.
Dominic walked out onto the porch, his gun lowered but ready.
Vincent was crawling through the snow, bleeding from a wound in his shoulder, reaching desperately for a dropped pistol.
Dominic stepped on his uncle’s hand, crushing the bones beneath his heavy leather boot. Vincent screamed, looking up at his nephew with a face twisted in terror.
"You're done, Vincent," Dominic said, his voice colder than the winter air. "You took seven years of my life. You tried to kill my family. There are no more warnings."
Dominic looked at Marco, who stood beside him. "Take him away. Somewhere he will never see the light of day again."
"With pleasure, Boss," Marco said.
Dominic turned back toward the house. The adrenaline died down, replaced by a sudden, desperate need to see his family. He ran inside, down the basement stairs, and knocked on the heavy wooden door.
"Grace," he called out, his voice cracking. "It’s me. It’s safe."
May you like
The lock turned. The door swung open, and Grace threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder. Dominic wrapped his arms around her, squeezing so tight he felt her heartbeat against his chest.
Noah stood behind her, looking up at them. Dominic reached down and pulled his son into the embrace, holding them both as if they were the only things keeping him anchored to the earth.
