Chapter 16 - The War Begins
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The tender vulnerability in Aleandro’s posture evaporated instantly. The apex predator returned, cold, lethal, and entirely focused. He stepped back from Elena, drawing his heavy pistol from his shoulder holster with terrifying efficiency.
"How many men did they send?" Aleandro demanded, striding past Marco into the hallway.
"Three heavily armored transport trucks breached the main gates at the docks," Marco reported, following closely. "They have automatic weapons and incendiary charges. They are burning the warehouses to the ground. They aren't trying to take the territory, Boss. They are trying to erase us."
"Mobilize every soldier we have," Aleandro roared, his voice echoing violently through the grand corridors. "Lock down the estate. Nobody enters or leaves. If a shadow crosses the perimeter, shoot it."
He stopped at the top of the grand staircase, turning back to look at Elena, who was standing in the doorway of the guest suite, clutching Mia to her chest. Her eyes were wide with terror, recognizing the violent reality of the world she had just been dragged into.
"Stay in that room," Aleandro commanded her, his voice softening just a fraction, a desperate plea hidden beneath the absolute authority. "I swear to you, I will come back."
He didn't wait for her answer. He turned and sprinted down the marble stairs, plunging headfirst into the war that was tearing his city apart.
The night sky over the northern docks was stained a violent, bruised orange. The heat from the burning warehouses was intense, melting the pavement and sending thick, choking black smoke into the air.
Aleandro arrived in an armored SUV, stepping out into the chaos with a tactical rifle raised. The sound of automatic gunfire was deafening, a relentless, terrifying drumbeat of death.
"They have us pinned behind the main loading bay!" a bleeding capo shouted over the noise, crouching behind a concrete barrier. "They have elevated positions on the cranes!"
Aleandro didn't hesitate. He didn't command from the back lines like a coward. He moved with lethal, tactical perfection, using the smoke as cover. He flanked the primary assault team, catching the New York enforcers in a deadly crossfire.
He moved like a demon in the dark, dropping men with precise, ruthless shots. The anger that had been simmering since Elena’s kidnapping finally exploded into absolute, unchecked violence. He wasn't just fighting for his territory anymore; he was fighting to protect the home he had finally realized he wanted to build.
An hour later, the gunfire slowly died out, replaced by the crackle of burning timber and the groans of the dying. The New York assault team had been entirely decimated.
Aleandro stood in the center of the ruined shipping yard, his face covered in soot, blood dripping from a shallow graze on his arm.
"Check the bodies," Aleandro ordered Marco, his chest heaving. "Find out who led this strike."
Marco flipped over the body of a heavily tattooed enforcer, checking his pockets. He pulled out a sleek, encrypted satellite phone.
"Boss," Marco said grimly, handing the phone over. "It wasn't just a hit squad. It was a distraction."
Aleandro grabbed the phone. The screen was illuminated with a single, read text message from an unknown number.
The docks are burning. The estate is exposed. Move in on the girl.
May you like
Aleandro’s blood turned completely to ice. He looked toward the hills where his mansion sat, perfectly isolated in the dark.
"They played me," Aleandro whispered, pure panic finally seizing his heart. "It’s a secondary strike. They are going after Elena."
