The Maid Screamed That the Mafia Boss’s Fiancée Was Slitting the Baby’s Throat Until His First Breath Exposed Who Had Really Come to Kill Him

The railyard on Chicago’s South Side was a maze of rusted shipping containers, towering cranes, and abandoned freight cars. Fog rolled off the river, wrapping the industrial wasteland in a thick, white shroud.

Inside a giant, dimly lit warehouse, Everett Cross—head of the Northern Alliance—sat at a makeshift desk, sipping whiskey. Beside him stood Julian Vance, a ruthless enforcer built like a brick wall, flanked by twenty heavily armed men.

"Sal isn't answering his phone," Julian said, looking down at his encrypted radio. "And Clara’s line went dead five hours ago."

Everett Cross, a man in his late fifties with slicked-back gray hair and a cruel, arrogant face, poured himself another glass. "Sal is probably just cleaning up the mess. Once the baby is dead, Dante will lose his mind. He’ll make a mistake, and we’ll strike the estate."

BOOM!

The giant steel doors of the warehouse blew inward in a blinding flash of orange fire and twisted metal!

Explosive charges blew the hinges clean off, sending shrapnel tearing through the room. Before the smoke could even clear, Dante Moretti’s men swarmed the warehouse, weapons blazing. The air erupted into the deafening roar of automatic gunfire, sparks flying off steel containers as bullets ricocheted through the gloom.

Dante stepped through the burning wreckage of the door like a dark god of war, dressed in a tactical vest over a black shirt, a assault rifle raised to his shoulder. Beside him, moving with deadly, disciplined precision, was Vivienne. She carried a lightweight tactical shotgun, racking the slide and dropping two Northern Alliance guards who tried to flank them.

"Everett!" Dante’s voice bellowed above the gunfire, echoing off the steel girders above. "Your traitor in my house is dead! Your assassin is in a cage! And your empire ends tonight!"

Everett Cross panicked, dropping his whiskey glass as his men were mowed down by Moretti’s overwhelming firepower. "Julian! Kill them! Kill both of them!"

Julian Vance grabbed a heavy submachine gun and laid down suppressive fire, forcing Dante and Vivienne behind a steel shipping container.

"I’m moving right!" Vivienne called out over the deafening noise, her voice calm and tactical. "I’ll flush Vance out into the open!"

"Vivienne, no! Stay behind me!" Dante barked.

"We do this together, Dante!" she shot back with a fierce smile.

Before he could stop her, she slid across the slick concrete floor, firing two heavy shotgun rounds into the wooden crates above Julian’s head. The massive wooden crates collapsed, raining down hundreds of pounds of freight onto Vance’s men.

Julian stumbled back into the open, cursing as he tried to clear his jammed weapon.

Dante stepped out from cover, his rifle raised. He didn't waste a breath. He fired three precise rounds into Julian Vance’s chest. The enforcer crashed to the ground, dead before he hit the concrete.

The remaining Northern Alliance guards threw down their weapons, surrendering as Moretti’s men surrounded them.

The gunfire ceased. The warehouse fell into a heavy, smoke-filled silence, broken only by the crackle of burning fires and the dripping of water from the ceiling.

Everett Cross was cowering under his wooden desk, his expensive suit covered in dirt and ash.

Dante walked over, grabbed Everett by his lapels, and dragged him out into the center of the warehouse floor, throwing him at Vivienne’s feet.

Everett looked up, his face twisted in fear and disbelief as he stared at his daughter. "Vivienne... my daughter... please! Tell him! Tell him we can make a deal! You're my blood!"

Vivienne stood over her father, her dark auburn hair slightly disheveled, holding the shotgun at her side. Her gray eyes were as cold as a frozen lake.

"You stripped me of my life, Everett," Vivienne said, her voice echoing in the vast space. "You ruined my reputation to protect a drunk physician who gave you political favors. You sold me to the Moretti family like a piece of meat. And then you sent a killer to slit the throat of an innocent six-month-old child."

"I did it for the family alliance!" Everett begged, tears streaming down his face. "I did it for our future!"

"You have no family," Vivienne said softly. "And you have no future."