“Dance With Me,” The Mafia Boss Ordered—The Shy Waitress Whispered, “I’m Still Working”

Chloe didn't sleep. She sat by the reinforced window, watching the dark Boston sky slowly turn a bruised, bloody purple as dawn approached. In the living room, Dominic and his men were checking weapons, loading heavy tactical vests with extra magazines. The click-clack of assault rifles being chambered was a terrifying lullaby.

At 5:30 AM, Silas approached Dominic.

“Boss, the convoy is ready downstairs. Three armored SUVs. We have snipers moving into position at the shipping yards right now.”

Dominic nodded, pulling a heavy Kevlar vest over his dress shirt, casually adjusting his tie as if he were heading into a board meeting rather than a bloodbath. He picked up a customized 1911 pistol and slid it into his shoulder holster.

He walked over to Chloe. “You are staying here. The penthouse is secure. I am leaving four men outside the door. Do not open it for anyone but me.”

“Bring him back, Dominic,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Please.”

“I will,” Dominic promised.

He turned and walked toward the steel doors, Silas and Marcus following closely behind.

But before Dominic could touch the handle, a deafening, concussive explosion rocked the entire building.

The floor violently shook beneath Chloe’s feet, throwing her hard against the window. The alarms in the penthouse immediately shrieked, a high-pitched wail of emergency. Dust rained down from the expensive modern ceiling.

“What the hell was that?!” Marcus yelled, raising his rifle toward the door.

Dominic’s radio crackled to life. “Boss! Boss! The lobby has been breached! Volkov sent a suicide squad! They blew the main support pillars in the garage! They’re moving up the stairwells!”

Dominic’s eyes widened in rare, unfiltered shock. Volkov hadn't waited for sunrise. The trade at the shipping yards was a decoy to draw Dominic’s main forces out. The Russians had brought the war directly to the fortress.

“Hold the elevators!” Dominic roared into his radio. “Silas, barricade the steel doors! They want a siege, we give them a slaughter!”

“Dominic!” Chloe screamed, pointing frantically toward the massive glass windows overlooking the harbor.

Through the morning mist, two heavy, unmarked black helicopters were hovering directly outside the 40th-floor penthouse. The side doors were open, revealing heavily armed Russian mercenaries aiming rocket-propelled grenade launchers directly at the bulletproof glass.