Chapter 14 - The Ambush at the Docks
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I stepped back, the romantic tension shattering instantly as I pulled the secure phone from my pocket.
"Report," I answered sharply.
"Boss, it’s a full-scale assault," Marco yelled over the deafening sound of automatic gunfire crackling through the speaker. "Kolov didn't wait for our retaliation. He hit the primary Castellano shipping port in Brooklyn. He brought two dozen heavily armed men. They are burning the cargo and executing the dockworkers!"
My blood turned to absolute ice. Kolov wasn't trying to send a message anymore; he was trying to eradicate my infrastructure.
"Hold the line, Marco," I roared. "I am on my way."
I hung up the phone and looked at Emma. The tender, vulnerable woman vanished, replaced by the terrifying realization of the violence I was about to unleash.
"Stay inside the fortress," I commanded her, grabbing my tactical gear from the hidden locker near the door. "Do not let anyone in. I will end this tonight."
"Dominic, please be careful," she pleaded, fear shining in her eyes.
"I always am," I promised, before running out into the dark.
I arrived at the Brooklyn docks an hour later via a private chopper. The night sky was stained a violent, bruised orange from the burning shipping containers. The air was thick with smoke, cordite, and the screams of dying men.
I didn't lead from a safe bunker. I strapped a heavy assault rifle to my chest and walked directly into the fire.
The Russians had the upper hand, pinning my loyalists behind a massive concrete barricade near the loading bays.
I didn't hesitate. I flanked the primary Russian assault team, moving through the shadows of the burning containers like a demon. I opened fire with terrifying, mechanical precision. My aim was flawless. Three of Kolov’s men dropped before they even knew I was there.
"Castellano is here!" a Russian enforcer screamed, pointing his weapon at my position.
I didn't take cover. I walked forward, laying down a devastating barrage of suppressing fire that shredded their ranks. The rumors that the Italian boss had gone soft died in the blood and fire of the docks that night. I showed them exactly why I was the most feared man in New York.
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Within thirty minutes, the Russian assault was completely broken. The surviving thugs fled into the night, leaving the burning port in my control.
But as I stood amidst the wreckage, reloading my weapon, my phone buzzed with a chilling realization. Kolov wasn't at the docks. This was a distraction.
