Chapter 3 - The Gathering of StormsWhen you declare war on two mob families at once, the safest place in the world is right behind the gun of the man who loves you.
The Hail Fortress in Garrison, New York, was built like a medieval castle reinforced with modern military technology. Surrounded by high stone walls, security cameras, and thirty elite guards armed with assault rifles, it was impenetrable.
By 2:00 PM, the storm outside had worsened, dark clouds hanging low over the Hudson River.
Inside the warm, timber-beamed living room, a fire crackled in the massive stone fireplace. Posie was tucked into a plush velvet sofa, wrapped in a warm cashmere blanket, eating a bowl of hot soup brought by my personal chef. Her pale gray eyes sparkled as she looked around the room, fascinated by the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and heavy crystal chandeliers.
Mave sat beside her, wearing one of my soft cotton sweaters and a pair of sweatpants, holding a hot cup of tea.
"Boss," Wesley interrupted, walking into the room with a encrypted satellite tablet in his hand. His face was thunderous. "We have a massive situation."
I stepped away from the fire, joining Wesley near the window. "Speak."
"The media is exploding," Wesley reported, turning the tablet toward me. "Footage of you abandoning Coraline Ashford on Fifth Avenue and taking a woman and child into your car has gone viral globally. The stock prices of our legitimate front corporations dropped twelve percent in two hours."
"I don't care about the stocks," I said coldly. "What about the families?"
"Victor Ashford called an emergency council meeting of the Five Families," Wesley said grimly. "He claims you publicly humiliated his daughter and breached a binding blood treaty. He has placed a five-million-dollar bounty on your head, and he's mobilized sixty hitmen to track you down."
"And my mother?" I asked, my voice dropping into an icy register.
Wesley hesitated, swallowing hard. "Evelyn is currently at the Hail estate in Manhattan. She issued a statement to the capos claiming that you have suffered a sudden mental breakdown due to stress. She is attempting to invoke the family charter to strip you of your title as Don and assume control of the syndicate."
A cold, bitter chuckle escaped my throat. "She wants to declare her own son insane to keep her power? How typical."
"Garrett..." Mave’s soft voice spoke up behind me.
I turned around. She had stood up from the sofa, looking at me with deep concern.
"This is my fault," Mave whispered, her voice trembling. "If I hadn't been standing on Fifth Avenue today... if I had just hidden behind the crowd..."
I walked over to her in three long strides, taking her face in both of my hands, tilting her head up until her brown eyes met mine.
"Don't you ever say that again," I commanded fiercely. "Seeing you today was the greatest miracle of my life. You saved me from marrying a serpent and living a lie. You brought my daughter back to me."
"They're going to kill you, Garrett," she wept, leaning her forehead against my chest. "Victor Ashford is ruthless. And your mother..."
"My mother built her reputation on fear," I murmured, pressing a passionate kiss to the crown of her head. "But she forgot who taught me how to rule. I am not my father, Mave. I don't compromise with monsters."
Suddenly, the red emergency warning lights installed along the ceiling began to flash silent, rhythmic pulses.
The heavy steel security shutters over the windows began to lower automatically.
May you like
Wesley pulled his weapon, stepping toward the main entrance as his earpiece buzzed with panicked radio chatter.
"Boss!" Wesley yelled over the alarm. "Thermal sensors at the front gate just picked up four heavy SUVs breaking through the perimeter fence! It's an Ashford tactical strike team!"
Related Stories
