Chapter 12 - A City on Fire: Dominic's Merciless War to Reclaim His Wife
At that exact moment, the entire eastern concrete wall of the warehouse was obliterated in a catastrophic, deafening explosion of C4 and steel.
The shockwave blew three of Costa’s mercenaries off their feet. Concrete shrapnel sprayed across the warehouse floor like deadly hail. Smoke, fire, and the piercing sound of tactical breaching sirens flooded the room.
Through the blazing breach in the wall, flanked by flashlights mounted on assault rifles, marched the wrath of the Rossi empire.
At the front of the formation was Dominic Rossi.
He wore black body armor over a blood-splattered shirt. His face was streaked with soot and blood, his eyes glowing with an unhinged, apocalyptic fury that made every mercenary in the room freeze in sheer, paralyzing terror. Behind him marched twenty heavily armored Rossi soldiers, firing with synchronized, devastating lethality.
"KILL THEM!" Costa shrieked, scrambling behind a row of steel shipping containers.
The warehouse erupted into a ferocious, close-quarters firefight. Gunfire roared in deafening waves. Dominic didn't take cover. He moved through the crossfire like a phantom, cutting down Costa’s mercenaries with brutal, ruthless precision. Every shot from his weapon found a lethal mark.
A mercenary lunged at me with a combat knife, intending to use me as a human shield, but Dominic intercepted him in mid-stride. Dominic grabbed the man by the throat, drove him violently into the concrete floor, and snapped his neck with a sickening crunch before the man could even scream.
Dominic dropped to his knees in front of my chair.
With a single slice of his tactical knife, he severed the zip-ties binding my wrists. When his eyes caught the bloody split on my lip and the bruising on my cheek, a terrifying, low growl ripped from his throat.
"Did he touch you?" Dominic whispered, his voice trembling with an emotion so violently intense it bordered on madness.
"I'm fine, Dominic," I gasped, throwing my arms around his neck, burying my face in his soot-stained shoulder. "I'm okay. He didn't get anything."
Dominic pulled me up, handing me off to Enzo, who had secured the rear flank with a team of four operatives.
"Enzo, get my wife to the armored vehicle," Dominic commanded, his voice dropping into a deadly, chilling register as he turned his gaze toward the shipping containers where Victor Costa had retreated.
"Dominic, wait!" I called out.
May you like
Dominic didn't look back. He drew a custom combat blade from his vest and racked the slide of his sidearm.
"This ends tonight," Dominic said.
