She Was Just the Night Nurse Until She Saved the Mafia Boss’s Mother From Three Hitmen—Then He Came Looking for Her

At 3:30 AM, three unmarked black sedans slipped through the industrial gates of the city's private shipping docks.

Rain had begun to fall, slicking the concrete container yards with a reflective sheen of oil and water.

Inside the lead vehicle, Elias sat in the backseat, racking the slide of his custom heavy pistol. Beside him, Marin adjusted the straps of her tactical vest, securing two extra magazines to her belt.

"You don't have to do this," Elias said, watching her fingers work with practiced efficiency. "You fulfilled your contract."

"I don't like unfinished work," Marin said without looking up. "Besides, Valenti owes me forty dollars for the broken syringe."

Elias chuckled, a dark, dangerous sound. "I'll make sure he pays you in full."

The sedans came to a halt behind a row of rusted shipping containers. Fifty yards away, inside an illuminated warehouse, four luxury vehicles were parked in a circle.

Standing in the center of the circle was Valenti—a thick-necked man in his fifties wearing a camel-hair coat—talking animatedly to three high-ranking members of the rival Moretti syndicate.

"Look at that," Marco whispered from the front seat, looking through binoculars. "He’s selling off our northern territory rights to the Morettis in exchange for their backing."

"He's selling my family's legacy," Elias corrected icy coldness in every word. "Marco, take Team A to the west exit. Block the road. Nobody leaves this floor."

"What about us, Boss?" Marco asked.