Chapter 6 - The Arrival of the Cavalry
Footsteps pounded against the asphalt outside—heavy, synchronized, and numerous.
"Clear the perimeter!" a booming voice echoed through the smoke.
Marco peeked around the iron pillar, lowering his gun slightly as a wave of men in dark tactical gear—bearing the silver wolf crest of the Bellini syndicate—swarmed the street, neutralizing the remaining Moretti operatives in a matter of seconds.
Enzo Marchetti, Marco’s loyal second-in-command, stepped through the shattered doorway, coughing slightly from the smoke. He took in the scene: the blown-out windows, the downed operatives, and Marco emerging from behind the counter with two terrified children in his arms.
"Boss," Enzo said, his eyes widening. "Are you alright? The extraction team was ten minutes behind schedule—"
"We're fine, Enzo," Marco barked, his voice tight with adrenaline. He handed Mila and Leo to Enzo, who gently scooped them up. "Get the kids into the armored transport. Make sure they are secure. If so much as a speck of dust touches them, I'll hold you personally responsible."
"Consider it done," Enzo said, rushing out the back door with the children.
Marco turned back to me. I was still kneeling behind the counter, the gun smoking in my hand, staring blankly at the floor where the operative had fallen. My hands were shaking uncontrollably now that the adrenaline was wearing off.
Marco walked over, gently prying the weapon from my numb fingers and setting it aside. He reached out, lifting my chin so I had to look into his amber eyes.
"You saved us," Marco whispered, his voice thick with awe and fierce devotion. "You just took down a trained Moretti hitman without blinking."
"I... I killed someone," I breathed, the reality finally crashing down on me.
"You protected our family," Marco corrected firmly, pulling me into his arms and holding me tight against his chest. "You did what had to be done, Elena. Just like you've been doing for three years. But you don't have to do it alone anymore."
I buried my face in his shoulder, the familiar scent of sandalwood and rain grounding me. For the first time in three long, lonely years, I felt safe.
May you like
"We need to leave," I murmured against his shirt. "They know where we are. The Morettis won't stop."
"They won't get the chance," Marco said, pulling back, his expression hardening into stone. "We're going back to Chicago. And we're going to burn the Moretti syndicate to the ground—starting with your sister."
