Chapter 10 - The First Strike
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The humiliation at the gala was the final straw for the Moretti family.
Two nights later, as rain poured over New York City, three black vans pulled up outside the Rossi shipping docks in Brooklyn.
A heavy explosion rocked the harbor, blowing open the main supply warehouse. Moretti hitmen swarmed the docks, firing automatic weapons and setting fire to three multi-million-dollar cargo shipments.
I was sitting in Dominic’s study when Marco rushed in, covered in soot and rainwater.
“Boss! The Brooklyn docks were bombed!” Marco panted. “Vance Moretti’s men are burning everything! They’ve declared open war!”
Dominic stood up from his desk, his face turning into a mask of pure, lethal fury. He pulled open a hidden cabinet behind his bookshelf, revealing an arsenal of heavy firearms.
“Rally the men,” Dominic ordered coldly. “We crush them tonight.”
He turned to me, grabbing a heavy Kevlar vest and pulling it over his dark shirt.
“Skyler, stay in the panic room with my mother,” Dominic said, taking my face in his hands. “The mansion security is fully locked down.”
“Dominic, be careful,” I pleaded, tears shining in my eyes. “Vance is desperate. He has nothing left to lose.”
Dominic kissed me deeply, his grip tight and frantic.
“I have everything to lose now,” he whispered against my lips, looking into my eyes. “I’m coming back to you. I promise.”
He grabbed his weapons and strode out of the room, flanked by thirty heavily armed men.
I watched his convoy vanish into the pouring rain.
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A terrible, cold feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. Something was wrong. Vance Moretti wouldn't strike the docks just to burn cargo—it was too simple, too obvious.
It was a distraction.
