Chapter 5 - The Strike on the DocksBy 4:00 PM that afternoon, the overcast sky over Marblehead turned into a heavy, dark winter rainstorm.
The quiet sanctuary of the estate library was suddenly broken by the sharp, urgent chime of Leo's satellite phone.
Leo answered, listened for three seconds, his face hardening into dark, stone-cold granite.
"Boss," Leo reported, looking up at Matteo. "The Providence crew just executed a secondary retaliatory strike against our commercial shipping terminal at Pier 4 in South Boston. They've seized two transport trucks carrying our primary pharmaceutical import cargo."
Matteo didn't shout. He didn't slam his hand on the desk.
His posture fluidly shifted from the calm, aristocratic host into a terrifying, sovereign commander. He pulled a dark leather jacket from his chair, slipping it over his dress shirt, pulling a custom Kimber .45 from his desk drawer, checking the seat of the magazine with a quiet, mechanical CLICK.
"Marco," Matteo commanded cleanly, looking over at his secondary security lead. "Keep four operators inside the main house. The perimeter sensors remain on high-alert. No one enters this estate."
"Understood, Boss," Marco nodded, pulling his weapon.
Matteo turned his gray eyes onto me as I stood near the fireplace.
"Stay inside the estate, Maya," Matteo ordered softly, his voice holding an absolute, protective authority. "I will return by eight o'clock."
"Matteo... wait," I spoke up, taking two fast steps toward him, my hands instinctively reaching out to grab his sleeve before I could stop myself.
He paused, looking down at my fingers clutching his leather jacket.
"Don't get shot," I rasped out, my hazel eyes searching his face with a sudden, fierce concern that caught even myself by surprise. "I still owe you forty dollars for my mother's bill."
A low, genuine laugh escaped Matteo's chest—a warm, breathtaking sound that illuminated his sharp features.
He reached up, his broad palm cupping the back of my neck, pulling me gently forward, pressing a warm, lingering kiss against my forehead that made my breath catch violently in my throat.
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"I'll come back to collect, Maya," Matteo promised softly into my hair. "I always collect my debts."
He turned and strode out through the heavy library doors, flanked by Leo and six armed operators, vanishing into the storm toward Boston.
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