The Mafia Boss Mocked Her Cheap Watch—Then It Beeped With the Syndicate’s Secret Distress Signal

The concussive blast of the flash grenade cleared, leaving high-pitched ringing in Alex's ears.

"Maya!" Alex roared through the drifting cordite smoke.

He fired three rounds through the haze, dropping the operative who had breached the landing, but when the smoke parted, the landing was empty. Blood stained the stone floor—not Maya's, but Salvatore's. The old man lay against his workbench, clutching his shoulder, his revolver empty.

"They took her..." Salvatore gasped, coughing blood. "Damian's second-in-command... Vane. They dragged her into the alley. They didn't kill her, Alex. Damian wants her as leverage at the Conclave."

Alex's vision turned red. A primal, uncontrollable rage, darker and more terrifying than anything he had ever felt, erupted from the core of his being. For two years, he had operated behind the shield of corporate civility, fighting with legal maneuvers, board takeovers, and silent executions.

That man was gone.

He knelt beside his uncle, pressing a field dressing against Salvatore's wound. "Can you hold the line until my extraction team arrives?"

Salvatore gripped Alex's wrist with surprising strength, his gray eyes burning. "Don't worry about an old ghost. Go to the Plaza. Damian thinks he holds all the cards because he has the girl. Show him what happens when you threaten a Vitali's queen."

Alex stood up. He pulled out his phone, speed-dialing a number he had not called in five years—the secure line to the Vitali Iron Guard, the private paramilitary division his father had established for total war.

"Marco," Alex said into the receiver, his voice as sharp as a diamond blade. "Mobilize all four strike teams. Arm for full tactical breach. We're going to the Grand Plaza Hotel."

"Boss?" Marco's deep voice sounded startled. "The Plaza is sovereign syndicate territory. The High Council is in session. If we roll in hot, that's an act of war against all Five Families."

"Then it's war," Alex said coldly. "Damian Cassano took Maya."

There was a half-second silence on the line, followed by the unmistakable sound of assault rifles being chambered.

"Twenty minutes, Don Alessandro. We meet at the perimeter."

Alex hung up. He holstered his sidearm, checked the encrypted data drive in his pocket, and stepped over the bodies on the cellar floor. As he climbed into the rainy night, his silhouette was no longer that of a corporate titan.