Chapter 17 - The Massacre in the Dark
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The warehouse erupted into a symphony of violent chaos.
Night vision goggles flared to life on the faces of Adrian’s elite tactical squad, who had silently breached the roof while the heiresses were gloating. Suppressed gunfire hissed through the darkness, dropping Isabella’s guards with terrifying, surgical precision.
"Kill her!" Isabella screamed, blindly firing a small pistol into the dark.
A heavy hand grabbed Liya by the arm, dragging her violently behind a stack of wooden pallets. She squeezed her eyes shut, ready for a bullet, but the scent of cedar and gunpowder washed over her.
"I told you I'd come for you," Adrian breathed heavily in her ear.
"Your leg," she sobbed, clutching his tactical vest.
"I've had worse," he grunted. "Stay down."
Adrian stepped out from behind the pallets, a heavy assault rifle in his hands. The emergency backup lights of the warehouse flickered on, casting long, sinister shadows across the concrete.
The remaining three heiresses cowered behind a vehicle, their private armies decimated by Adrian's superior tactical force. Isabella Falcone stood frozen, her gun empty, staring in horror as the Mafia King walked toward her.
"Adrian, please!" Isabella begged, backing away, her haughty demeanor entirely broken. "We can negotiate! The Commission will—”
"The Commission is dead," Adrian stated, his voice a low, mechanical rumble. "You touched my wife. You threatened my family."
He didn't hesitate. Adrian raised his rifle and fired a single, deafening shot. Isabella Falcone fell to the floor, her reign of terror over.
The remaining heiresses screamed, dropping to their knees and surrendering instantly.
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Adrian didn't look at them. He dropped his rifle, letting it hang by its sling, and limped back over to the wooden pallets. He dropped to his knees, ignoring his bleeding leg, and pulled Liya into his arms, crushing her against his chest.
"It's over," he promised, burying his face in her neck. "They will never touch you again."
