Chapter 7
The heavy, imposing doors of the private VIP suite swung open. The natural, brilliant light of the exhibition hall spilled out into the quiet corridor as Luciano stepped into the room, carrying Mabel securely in his arms.
He gently set the four-year-old down on a plush velvet sofa. "Wait here, little bird. I need to make a phone call."
"Okay, Daddy," Mabel nodded, wiping a stray tear from her cheek.
Luciano walked over to the mahogany desk, pulling his encrypted smartphone from his pocket. His jaw was clenched so tightly the muscles feathered beneath his fair, rosy skin. He dialed a secure number, his cold, intimidating eyes looking out the large windows at the sprawling city skyline.
"Vincenzo," Luciano said as his head of security answered.
"Boss," Vincenzo reported urgently. "We have the driver secured in the basement. He’s a low-level Petrov soldier. He’s terrified. He gave up the safe house location before we even had to ask."
"Where is it?" Luciano demanded, his voice a low, lethal hum.
"An abandoned warehouse in the industrial district," Vincenzo replied. "He says the Petrov lieutenants are waiting there for the extraction team to arrive with the girl."
"Gather the strike teams," Luciano ordered, his volume incredibly low but dripping with apocalyptic intent. "Arm every soldier on the payroll. We are moving on the Petrov family tonight."
"The Petrovs, Boss?" Vincenzo asked, shock evident in his heavy American accent. "That’s a full-scale war. They outnumber us in that sector."
"By sunrise, they will have no numbers," Luciano promised smoothly. "They conspired to kidnap my daughter. I want every Petrov capo, every lieutenant, and every soldier dead before the sun comes up."
"Understood, Boss. We ride in ten minutes," Vincenzo confirmed before the line went dead.
Luciano lowered the phone, slipping it back into his pocket. He turned his attention back to Mabel, who was swinging her legs on the sofa.
"Daddy has to go to work now, Mabel," Luciano said softly, walking over to her. "Marcus is going to take you home. He will stay with you until I get back."
"Are you going to fight the bad men, Daddy?" Mabel asked, her blue eyes wide.
"I am going to make sure they can never, ever hurt us again," Luciano vowed, kissing her forehead.
He watched as Marcus gently led the little girl out of the suite, toward the heavily armored SUV waiting at the private exit. Once his daughter was safely away from the club, Luciano’s demeanor shifted entirely. The tender father vanished, replaced completely by the cold, ruthless Mafia Boss.
He walked out of the suite and headed straight for the basement holding cells.
When he pushed the heavy steel door open, Odessa and Grant were zip-tied to metal chairs in the center of the dark room. The bright overhead light flickered, casting harsh shadows over their ruined, bleeding faces.
"Luciano, please," Odessa whimpered, her elegant gown torn and dirty. "We'll leave the city. We'll sign over our territories. Just let us live."
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"You sold my blood," Luciano whispered, drawing a suppressed pistol from the holster hidden beneath his tailored suit jacket. "You are not leaving this room."
He raised the weapon. The war for the city had just been ignited by the very people who were supposed to protect his family. He squeezed the trigger, ensuring their treason was permanently silenced. He turned and walked out of the basement, ready to unleash hell upon the Petrov syndicate to protect the daughter he loved more than life itself.
