Chapter 5 - The Ambush at Pier 14Before Victor’s fingers could touch his holster, Vincent moved with lightning, surgical speed.
He caught Victor by his wrists, driving his heavy frame down flat against the mahogany table with iron force, while three loyal lieutenants—led by Marco, who had immediately realized the shift in power—drew their weapons and locked down the exit doors.
CLICK. CLICK.
Heavy steel handcuffs locked tightly around Victor’s wrists.
"Vincent! Please!" Victor wept pathetically, his face pressed hard against the table. "I did it for the family! I did it to keep the syndicate safe from New York!"
Vincent looked down at his uncle with pure, unadulterated contempt.
"You kept me in darkness for ten years, Victor," Vincent whispered, his baritone cold as winter ice. "You let me bleed onto my pillows while you built your empire on my name. You are not family. You are a parasite."
Vincent turned to Marco. "Take him to the lower holding cells at the docks. Lock him in the dark until the federal auditors arrive."
"Yes, Don Moretti!" Marco replied, bowing his head in absolute, terrified respect, dragging Victor out through the side doors.
Vincent turned around, walking over to where I stood near the hearth. The dark, lethal focus that had filled his face vanished instantly, replaced by an expression of deep, weightless tenderness as he reached out to pull me into his arms.
He wrapped his broad frame around me, burying his face in my dark hair, holding me flush against his beating heart.
"Are you safe, my queen?" Vincent murmured into my hair.
"I am safe, Vincent," I answered softly, pressing a sweet kiss against his neck. "Because I stand beside you."
Suddenly, the heavy double doors of the foyer burst open.
A bruised, frantic young man pushed past the estate security guards, stumbling into the dining room, his face covered in grime and tears.
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My brother, Tyler—the twenty-five-year-old drunk who had laughed when my father sold me eight days ago.
"Nora!" Tyler shrieked, falling onto his knees on the marble floor, clutching his hands together in a desperate, frantic plea. "Nora, help me! Dad... Dad took another loan from the Ashford syndicate! They have him at the warehouse on 5th Street! They're going to kill him if we don't pay fifty thousand dollars by noon!"
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