Chapter 15 - The Platinum Club
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The Platinum Club was a monument to Victor’s ego. Located in the heart of the financial district, it boasted neon lights, velvet ropes, and a massive line of people desperately trying to get inside. It was 11:00 PM, and the bass from the club’s speakers shook the pavement outside.
Four black SUVs pulled up to the curb simultaneously, aggressively forcing the valet parkers to scatter.
Matteo stepped out of the lead vehicle. He wore a sharp black suit over his sling, his good hand resting on the heavy automatic pistol holstered at his hip. Dante and a dozen of the old guard stepped out behind him, pulling assault rifles from beneath their trench coats.
The massive bouncers at the front door reached for their earpieces, their eyes widening in panic.
“Rossi,” one of the bouncers gasped, recognizing the ghost of the waterfront.
“Move,” Dante growled, aiming his shotgun at the man’s chest.
The bouncers raised their hands and backed away, completely abandoning their posts. Matteo kicked the heavy glass doors open, shattering them into a million glittering pieces.
The music inside was deafening. The club was packed with hundreds of dancing patrons and neon lights.
Dante raised his shotgun and fired a single blank round into the ceiling.
The music screeched to a halt. The patrons screamed, dropping to the floor or stampeding toward the emergency exits. Within sixty seconds, the massive dance floor was entirely empty, leaving only Victor’s armed guards scrambling for cover behind the VIP booths.
“Victor!” Matteo’s voice boomed over the club’s PA system, having commandeered the DJ booth. “Come down here and face me, or I burn this place to the ground with your men inside.”
Gunfire erupted from the VIP balcony. Victor’s guards opened fire, raining bullets down onto the dance floor.
Matteo’s men didn't flinch. They returned fire with terrifying, disciplined precision. Glass shattered, velvet couches were torn apart, and expensive liquor bottles exploded behind the bar. It wasn't a shootout; it was a systematic execution.
Matteo walked calmly through the crossfire, using the concrete pillars for cover, his eyes locked on the spiral staircase leading to Victor’s private office.
Two of Victor’s men stepped out onto the landing, aiming submachine guns.
Matteo didn't break stride. He raised his pistol with his right hand and fired twice. Both guards dropped instantly, tumbling down the carpeted stairs.
Matteo reached the top of the stairs and kicked open the mahogany door to the private office.
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Victor was frantic, desperately throwing stacks of cash into a leather duffel bag. When the door crashed open, he froze, dropping the money, and raised a gold-plated pistol toward Matteo’s chest.
“You're a dead man, Rossi!” Victor screamed, his hand shaking uncontrollably.
