Chapter 9
The text message glowed sharply against the screen in the bright, natural light of the afternoon.
Boss. We intercepted a communication from Brielle's father. He knows she was thrown out. He just mobilized his entire crew. They are arming up at the downtown warehouse.
Damon’s jaw tightened. The artistic tattoos on his neck shifted as a cold, familiar calculation took over his mind. The Sutton family was a massive organization, controlling a significant portion of the city's political infrastructure. Breaking the engagement was not just a domestic dispute; it was a devastating insult that demanded a violent response. Brielle’s father was proud, arrogant, and heavily armed.
He slipped the phone back into his pocket, his expression giving nothing away to his children.
Damon escorted Caleb and Micah into the grand, brightly lit kitchen of the estate. He instructed the head chef to prepare a massive sundae, ensuring the boys were safe and distracted. He kissed the tops of their heads before stepping quietly out into the hallway.
The moment the kitchen doors swung shut behind him, the tender father vanished entirely. The ruthless, terrifying Mafia Boss returned.
He walked swiftly toward his private study, his polished leather shoes clicking with purpose against the hardwood floors. When he entered the room, three of his top lieutenants were already waiting, their faces grim and serious.
"You saw the message," Damon said, walking behind his massive mahogany desk. He spoke slowly, with those deadly, controlled pauses.
"We did, Boss," the lead lieutenant, a heavily scarred man named Elias, nodded. "Sutton is furious. He's pulling his men from the suburbs. He’s going to hit us tonight. Probably a coordinated strike on our distribution centers to cripple our cash flow."
"He will not reach the distribution centers," Damon stated coldly.
He opened a secure drawer in his desk and pulled out a heavy, matte-black suppressed pistol, racking the slide with a sharp, metallic clack.
"What are your orders, Damon?" Elias asked, checking the magazine of his own weapon.
"Sutton believes. He has the element of surprise," Damon said, his volume incredibly low. "He believes I am distracted by domestic issues. He believes I am weak."
Damon looked up, his cold, intimidating eyes sweeping over his men.
"Gather every soldier we have," Damon commanded. "We do not wait for them to strike our warehouses. We go directly to the source."
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"The downtown warehouse?" Elias clarified. "That’s their main stronghold. It’ll be a bloodbath."
"Let it bleed," Damon whispered softly. "I want that warehouse surrounded. I want every exit blocked. When I give the signal, we burn it to the ground with every single one of Sutton's men inside."
