Chapter 1 - The Blood on the Marble
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The doctor’s hands moved with practiced, frantic precision. He cut away the ruined fabric of Emma’s uniform, revealing the dark, blooming bruises covering her ribs.
I stood over them, watching the chaotic rhythm of her shallow breathing. The scent of rain, copper, and wet asphalt filled my grand foyer, completely overpowering the usual smell of lemon polish and wealth.
"She has three fractured ribs, a severe concussion, and internal bleeding," Dr. Evans said, his voice tight as he inserted an IV into her pale arm. "Dominic, she needs a hospital."
"She stays here," I commanded. My voice did not rise, but the absolute finality in it made the doctor swallow his protests. "Convert the east guest wing into a trauma unit. Bring whatever equipment, whatever surgeons you need. She does not leave this house."
Marco stood by the heavy oak doors, his massive arms crossed over his chest. He was waiting for the order. He knew exactly what the look in my eyes meant.
For five years, I had played the legitimate businessman. I wore custom suits, attended charity galas, and kept the blood off my hands. I had buried the ruthless, violent enforcer I used to be because the Castellano empire needed to evolve.
But Alexei Kolov had just dragged me back into the dark.
"Marco," I said softly, not taking my eyes off Emma’s pale face.
"Yes, Boss."
"Kolov operates out of the shipping yards in Brighton Beach. The man with the snake tattoo on his wrist is low-level muscle. He’ll be drinking somewhere close to the docks, bragging about how he sent a message to the Castellano family."
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Marco pulled his heavy coat tightly around his shoulders. "Do you want him brought here?"
"No," I replied, feeling the familiar, icy calm of a predator taking over my mind. "I want you to find him. And I want you to make sure he understands exactly who he touched before you send him back to Kolov in pieces."
