Chapter 6 - Gathering the Loyal
The first rays of golden sunlight were just beginning to spill across the eastern lawns of the Eldergate estate as Damiano stepped out of the service corridor into the quiet warmth of the ground-floor pantry.
He set Lina down gently on the long oak table, picking up a linen napkin to wipe a smudge of basement dust from her cheek. She sat there swinging her legs, completely unfazed by the tension radiating from the man standing before her.
"Lina," Damiano said, his voice firm yet gentle. "I need you to stay right here in the kitchen. Do not open the front door for anyone. Your mother will be downstairs in a few minutes. Can you do that for me?"
"Will you come back?" she asked, her big dark eyes searching his face.
"I always come back," Damiano promised, placing his hand briefly on her head.
He turned and walked swiftly down the long hallway toward the private security office behind the main library. The house was still asleep, unaware of the storm that was about to break. Only the trusted few remained—the men who hadn't taken Salvatore Conti's bribes, the men whose loyalty wasn't for sale.
When Damiano pushed open the heavy oak door of the security room, Stefano Bruno was sitting at the monitoring console with a cup of cold coffee, looking exhausted. When he saw Damiano walk in—his clothes bloodstained, his temple crusted with dried blood, his bare hands exposed without his signature leather gloves—Stefano leaped out of his chair so fast his coffee mug crashed to the floor and shattered into a hundred pieces.
"Boss!" Stefano gasped, his eyes widening in shock. "What happened? Carlo said you were at the Ridgewood warehouse—"
"Carlo lied," Damiano interrupted, his voice a low, dangerous growl that made the temperature in the room drop ten degrees. "He and Salvatore Conti set a trap. They locked me in the basement three hours ago."
Stefano's face turned white with fury, his hand instantly dropping to the holster beneath his suit jacket. "That son of a bitch. I knew something was wrong when he handled the roster change last night. Where is he?"
"He thinks I'm still tied to the pillar," Damiano said, walking over to the heavy steel wall safe behind the desk. He dialed a six-digit combination with his bare fingers, the metal dials clicking rhythmically in the quiet room. "He's expecting Salvatore Conti to arrive at the gates at eight o'clock this morning to take over the estate."
"We can ambush them at the gate," Stefano suggested, his jaw tight. "I'll call the remaining loyal squads from Brooklyn and Queens. We can wipe them out before they even step foot on the gravel."
"No," Damiano said, pulling a heavy black Sig Sauer P226 from the safe and checking the magazine with a sharp clack. "If we kill them at the gate, their capos will scatter into the shadows and start a civil war that will tear the family apart for years. Carlo wants a hostile takeover. I'm going to give him an execution."
He slid the pistol into his shoulder holster, his eyes hard as flint.
"Call the inner guard units who are still stationed in the eastern boathouse," Damiano ordered, turning to face Stefano. "Tell them to secure the perimeter quietly. No sirens. No gunfire until I give the word. Let Conti and Carlo walk right through the front doors. Let them walk right down into the foyer and think they've won."
"And the girl?" Stefano asked, hesitating for a fraction of a second. "Lina?"
Damiano paused, remembering the tiny hands pulling at the heavy zip-ties in the dark basement, the way she had looked up at him without an ounce of fear.
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"She stays in the kitchen with Lucia," Damiano said firmly. "No one touches her. If a hair on her head is harmed, I won't just kill Conti—I'll tear this entire estate down to the foundations."
Stefano nodded grimly, pulling out his burner phone to begin making the calls that would trap the traitors inside their own web of lies.
