Chapter 8
The quiet sanctuary of the VIP lounge was abruptly shattered by a sharp, urgent knock on the heavy mahogany doors. Amadeo pulled back slightly, his sharp jawline tightening instantly as the cold, calculating mask of the mafia boss returned. He gently released Nerina, ensuring she was safely behind him, and turned toward the sound.
"Will you enter?" Amadeo called out, his voice regaining its measured, authoritative cadence.
His lead enforcer stepped into the room, his face grim under the cinematic lighting.
"Boss, we have a critical situation," the enforcer reported, his voice tight. "Cyril wasn't acting alone. We swept his office upstairs. He’s been in contact with the Moretti family for the last three months. They were planning a coordinated strike tonight. Cyril was supposed to take you out on the flight, and the Morettis were going to hit the supply warehouses while the family was mourning."
Amadeo’s eyes darkened to pitch. The immediate threat was not eliminated; it had simply expanded. He looked down at Nerina, the protective instinct surging through his veins. The true war for the Westbourne syndicate had only just begun.
"Are they demanding negotiations, or are they already mobilizing against our territory?" Amadeo asked, his voice a lethal, terrifying calm.
"They’re moving, Boss. We're getting reports of unmarked vehicles approaching the southern docks," the enforcer confirmed, checking the magazine of his sidearm. "We need you in the command center."
"Do they truly believe they can lay siege to my assets and live to see the sunrise?" Amadeo asked, a cold, ruthless smirk touching his lips.
He turned his broad shoulders back to Nerina. The beautiful housemaid was trembling, her fair skin pale with terror, but she did not shrink away from him.
"Will you go down to the secure bunker beneath the terminal and wait there until this is over, Nerina?" Amadeo asked, his voice softening entirely as he looked at her.
"No," Nerina said, shaking her head fiercely. She reached out, grabbing the lapels of his tailored dark suit. "Please, Amadeo. Don't go out there. They want a war. They will kill you."
"Do you think I can allow an enemy to march onto my property and threaten the people I love without consequence?" Amadeo asked, his dark eyes burning with an intense, unwavering devotion.
"I don't want you to die for this," she sobbed, burying her face against his chest.
Amadeo wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly against him. He kissed the top of her neatly pinned hair, his heart aching at the fear in her voice.
"Did you honestly believe a man who finally found something worth living for would allow himself to be killed by a rival syndicate?" Amadeo whispered fiercely into her hair. "I will come back to you. I promise you."
He gently pulled her away, looking deep into her expressive eyes.
"Will you trust me?" he asked.
Nerina nodded slowly, wiping her tears. "I trust you."
Amadeo gave her a brief, fierce smile. He turned to his enforcer. "Escort her to the bunker. If anyone other than me tries to open that door, shoot them through it."
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"Yes, Boss," the enforcer nodded grimly.
Amadeo didn't wait. He turned on his heel and strode out of the lounge, heading directly for the armory, leaving Nerina standing in the quiet, agonizing wait of the bunker.
