Serena Montesi crashed heavily onto the carpet, crying out in shock as she immediately curled one arm protectively around her unborn

The heavy, wrought-iron gates of the Montesi compound slowly ground open with a deep, mechanical groan. The bright security floodlights bathed the driveway in a stark, blinding glare.

Bastian Coletti stood his ground, the assault rifle gripped tightly in his sweating hands. His fair, rosy face was twisted into a mask of pure, desperate madness. He truly believed that by showing force, by bringing armed men to the gates, he could force Alaric into a negotiation. He believed the old mafia rules of diplomacy would save him.

The two black SUVs crept slowly up the sweeping, circular driveway, stopping just short of the grand entrance of the main house. Bastian walked behind them, using the vehicles as cover.

The heavy oak front doors of the mansion opened.

Alaric Montesi stepped out onto the marble portico. He was entirely alone. He did not carry a rifle. He did not wear body armor. He wore his tailored three-piece suit, his hands resting casually at his sides. The sheer, overwhelming aura of his power seemed to push the darkness away. He was deeply masculine, a titan of violence standing on the threshold of his castle.

"Alaric!" Bastian screamed, his voice cracking hysterically over the night air. He pointed the barrel of the rifle at the older man. "I want my money! I want my cut of the ports, and I want safe passage out of the city!"

Alaric stood perfectly still. He looked at the five mercenaries hiding behind the SUVs, and then he looked at Bastian.

"You come to my home with weapons," Alaric said, his deep American accent rolling across the driveway like thunder. "While my daughter screams in agony, bringing a child into this world prematurely because of your treachery. You demand money that does not belong to you."

"I am owed!" Bastian shrieked, taking a step forward. "I gave you years of loyalty! I married that weak girl for you!"

"You were a parasite," Alaric replied, his voice dead calm. "And you have overstayed your welcome."

Inside the lead SUV, Bianca Coletti rolled down the window. "Shoot him, Bastian! Shoot him now before his men get here!" she screamed, her luxurious formal dress visible in the dome light.

Bastian raised the rifle, his finger tightening on the trigger, closing one eye to aim at Alaric’s chest. "This is your fault, old man. You should have shared the throne."

Alaric didn't flinch. He simply raised his right hand, the heavy gold signet ring flashing under the security lights, and snapped his fingers.

The night instantly erupted into deafening violence.

The bright video colors of the scene were illuminated by dozens of blinding muzzle flashes. From the rooftops, the bushes, and the darkened windows of the estate, Alaric’s hidden army opened fire simultaneously.

The five mercenaries were cut down in less than two seconds, their bodies dropping to the gravel driveway before they could even aim their weapons. The black SUVs were shredded by heavy-caliber suppressing fire, the glass blowing out in sparkling, violent cascades. Bianca’s screams were abruptly silenced.

Bastian, terrified and completely surrounded, dropped his rifle and threw his hands into the air, falling to his knees on the gravel. He was untouched, deliberately spared from the initial volley.

The gunfire stopped as quickly as it had begun. The silence that followed was heavy with the smell of gunpowder and blood.

Alaric slowly walked down the marble steps, his polished leather shoes crunching on the gravel as he approached the kneeling, weeping man.

Inside the medical wing, a sharp, piercing cry echoed against the sterile walls. Serena fell back against the pillows, tears of pure, exhausted joy streaming down her face as the doctor held up a tiny, breathing baby girl.

Outside, Alaric stood over Bastian. He looked down at the ruined, pathetic man who had tried to steal an empire.