Chapter 5 - The Snake's Last Strike"Why would they take Emily?" I asked, panic surging through my veins despite everything she had done to me. She was still my blood, still the little sister I had raised.
"Because Nathan knows he cannot escape the country without capital," Dominic said, walking swiftly toward his desk and pulling out a heavy, dark steel handgun from a hidden vault, checking the magazine with practiced, terrifying speed. "And he knows that Vincenzo Moretti will only help him if he can deliver something valuable. Nathan thinks he can trade Emily’s life—or yours—to force me into giving back his family's seized offshore account keys."
"He thinks he can bargain with you?" I said, following him out of the office into the private elevator.
"He is desperate," Dominic said coldly as the elevator doors closed. "And desperate men make fatal errors."
Within ten minutes, a convoy of four black SUVs pulled out of the private garage, speeding through the rainy New York streets with silent, deadly purpose. Dominic sat in the backseat beside me, his face carved out of granite, issuing rapid orders over an encrypted radio to his security forces stationed across the city.
"They're heading toward the abandoned rail yards in Queens," Dominic’s head of security, Marcus, reported from the front seat. "Moretti’s men have locked down the main warehouse. They have heavy firepower, boss."
"I don't care if they have a tank division," Dominic replied calmly, racking the slide of his firearm. "They entered my city, they targeted my family, and they took something that belongs to my woman. Kill every man who draws a weapon."
My woman.
The words echoed in my mind, sending a surge of fierce, undeniable pride through my chest. I wasn't a victim anymore. I wasn't the weak, naive girl crying over a ruined engagement. I was standing beside the apex predator of New York, and I was going to help him end this.
"Dominic," I said, reaching out to grasp his forearm. "Let me go in first."
Dominic stopped, turning to look at me as if I had gone insane. "Absolutely not. You stay in the armored car."
"Listen to me!" I urged, my voice firm. "Nathan thinks I'm still the weak Eleanor he manipulated for three years. He thinks he can use my fear against me. If I walk toward that building alone, Moretti and Nathan will focus entirely on me. They won't expect your team to breach the rear perimeter."
Dominic studied my face for five long seconds. He saw no fear in my eyes—only white-hot determination.
A slow, prideful smile broke across his rugged face. "You really are extraordinary, Eleanor."
He reached into his jacket, pulled out a small, sleek silver pistol, and placed it directly into my palm.
"Safety is off," Dominic instructed softly, wrapping my hands around the grip. "Point, squeeze, and do not hesitate. If Nathan steps within three feet of you, put a bullet in his chest."
"I won't hesitate," I said, gripping the cold steel.
The convoy screeched to a halt two blocks away from the rusty, industrial expanse of the Long Island Rail Road yards. Rain was pouring heavily now, washing over the dark metal shipping containers and overgrown tracks.
I stepped out of the vehicle, draped in a long black rain trench coat hiding the weapon beneath my belt.
I walked straight down the center of the abandoned rail corridor, my footsteps splashing in the muddy puddles, heading toward the gaping, rusted doors of the main train depot.
Inside, the air smelled of wet rust, oil, and ozone.
"Nathan!" I called out, my voice booming off the high steel rafters. "I'm here!"
From behind a stacked row of wooden crates, two men armed with automatic rifles stepped out, pointing their weapons at me. Behind them walked Nathan, wearing a filthy, blood-stained prison jumpsuit, his face twisted in a manic, insane grin.
Beside him, bound and gagged on the floor, was Emily. Her eyes went wide with terror when she saw me, muffled screams escaping from behind the heavy duct tape on her mouth.
"Eleanor!" Nathan cackled, his eyes wildly bloodshot. "You actually came! The brave little martyr comes to save her ungrateful sister!"
"Let her go, Nathan," I said coldly, stopping fifteen feet away, keeping my hands visible in my pockets. "You wanted the offshore account keys. I have them."
I pulled a small black USB drive from my pocket—a decoy Dominic had given me—and held it up in the dim light.
Nathan’s eyes lit up with pure, unadulterated greed. "Yes! Yes! Give it to me! Give me the money, and I'll disappear! I'll leave you and your old mafia lover alone forever!"
"Where is Moretti?" I asked, scanning the dark corners of the warehouse.
"Moretti doesn't matter!" Nathan barked, stepping forward, reaching out his dirty hand. "Give me the drive, Eleanor! Now!"
"You really haven't learned anything, have you, Nathan?" I said softly.
I tossed the USB drive into the air.
As Nathan’s greedy eyes tracked the falling drive, reaching out to catch it, the heavy glass skylights above us shattered in a violent explosion of raining glass!
CRASH!
Black-clad tactical operators descended from the ceiling on ropes! At the exact same second, the side doors exploded inward, and Dominic Bellardi stepped into the building, his weapon raised, firing three precise shots that dropped Nathan’s armed guards before they could even raise their rifles!
Nathan shrieked in horror, dropping to the floor, grabbing a discarded pistol from a fallen guard, and aiming it straight at Dominic!
"Dominic!" I screamed.
Without thinking, my hand whipped out from my coat. I raised the silver pistol, lined up the sights directly on Nathan’s chest, and pulled the trigger.
BANG!
The sharp recoil slammed through my wrists.
Nathan froze. His eyes went wide with shock. He looked down at the blood blooming across his chest, dropped his gun, and collapsed backward onto the cold, wet concrete.
The warehouse fell into instant, dead silence, broken only by the sound of rain drumming against the roof and Emily’s muffled, hysterical sobbing.
Dominic walked smoothly over to Nathan’s motionless body, kicked the gun away from his hand, and checked his neck for a pulse.
He looked up at me, a sharp glint of absolute admiration in his eyes.
"Center mass," Dominic said softly. "Perfect shot, my dear."
He walked over to me, took the silver pistol gently from my shaking hand, slipped it back into his jacket, and pulled me into a fierce, warm embrace. I buried my face into his neck, holding onto him tight as the adrenaline washed through my body.
Behind us, Dominic’s men quickly cut Emily’s bindings. She pulled the tape off her mouth, crying hysterically, and tried to run toward me.
"Eleanor! Eleanor, oh my God! Thank you! Thank you!" she sobbed, trying to wrap her arms around me.
I pulled back from Dominic and looked down at my sister.
I didn't hug her. I didn't hold her.
"The guards will take you to the station, Emily," I said, my voice completely devoid of emotion. "Dominic has arranged a one-way ticket for you to a small town in Oregon. You will have a small apartment and a modest job lined up."
Emily blinked, shocked. "Oregon? Eleanor, no! I want to stay with you! I want to come back to the city!"
"You don't belong in my world anymore, Emily," I said coldly, turning my back on her. "You chose your path three weeks ago. Now live with it."
As the guards led a weeping Emily away into the rain, Dominic wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me close to his side.
"Are you alright, Eleanor?" he asked softly.
May you like
I looked at the fallen wreck of my past, then turned to look up at the powerful man holding me.
"I have never been better," I smiled.
