Chapter 13
The sharp, deafening cracks of suppressed automatic gunfire echoed through the steel canyon of the shipping yard. Alessandro moved relentlessly forward. A Moretti soldier stepped out from behind a crate, raising a shotgun, but Alessandro fired twice with flawless, surgical precision. The man dropped instantly to the concrete.
"Hold the line!" a panicked voice screamed with a thick American accent from the shadows ahead. "Keep him pinned!"
Alessandro ducked smoothly behind a forklift as a barrage of bullets chewed into the metal machinery. His chest rose and fell in slow, controlled rhythms. He waited for the unmistakable click of an empty magazine, and then he lunged.
He closed the distance in seconds, driving his heavy shoulder into the remaining Moretti lieutenant. The man crashed backward, his weapon sliding across the wet pavement. Alessandro pinned him to the ground, pressing the hot barrel of his sidearm directly under the man's chin.
"Who gave the order to burn my warehouse?" Alessandro asked. His volume was incredibly low, cutting through the chaos like a razor blade.
"Go to hell, Rizzano!" the lieutenant spat, his fair face bruised and sweating.
Alessandro did not hesitate. He fired a single round into the man's kneecap. The lieutenant shrieked in absolute, blinding agony, thrashing against the pavement.
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"I will ask you one more time," Alessandro murmured smoothly. "Who gave the order?"
"It was Bianca!" the lieutenant sobbed hysterically. "Don Moretti didn't know! Bianca paid us from her private trust! She wanted to destroy your cargo to make you pay for the humiliation!"
