Chapter 13 - The Lion’s Wrath on the Frozen Hudson
Sarah woke up tied to a heavy steel chair inside a freezing, derelict warehouse on the edge of the frozen Hudson River.
The wind howled through broken industrial windows, carrying flakes of snow that dusted the concrete floor.
Her head throbbed violently.
Her ribs burned with agonizing fire where the mercenary had struck her.
Standing before her, wrapped in an expensive fur coat, was Don Carmine Moretti.
Beside him stood Don Valenti, looking nervous and clutching a silver-plated revolver.
“Ah, the little maid wakes up,” Carmine sneered, pacing around her chair.
“You caused a lot of trouble at that gala, my dear. Made me look foolish in front of the entire commission.”
Sarah lifted her head, spitting a mouthful of blood onto Carmine’s polished leather shoes.
“You looked foolish because you are an old, pathetic coward who sends hitmen to kill six-year-old boys,” Sarah said, her voice shaking with rage rather than fear.
Carmine’s face twisted in fury.
He raised his hand and struck her across the face.
The blow snapped Sarah’s head to the side, splitting her lip, but she didn't cry out.
She turned back and glared at him with cold, defiant eyes.
“Hit me all you want, Carmine,” she whispered.
“Every second you waste here brings Gabriel closer. And when he arrives, there isn't a hole on this planet deep enough to hide you.”
Valenti checked his gold watch, his hands trembling.
“Carmine, we need to leave,” Valenti hissed.
“The decoy on Route 9 failed. Rossi’s army is en route here right now!”
“Let him come!” Carmine shouted, pulling a knife from his belt.
“I have his wife. He will hand over his territories and step down, or I will carve her into pieces in front of him!”
Suddenly, the roof above them exploded.
Concussion charges blew out the skylights, showering the warehouse in a rain of glass and twisted metal.
Smoke grenades hissed, filling the vast concrete space with blinding white fog.
CRASH!
A heavy armored truck smashed directly through the corrugated metal doors of the warehouse, sending two mercenary vehicles flying like toys.
Gunfire erupted instantly.
Rhythmic, devastating, lethal.
Rossi loyalists poured through the breach, executing Valenti’s mercenaries with surgical precision.
Through the thick white smoke walked a solitary, terrifying figure.
Gabriel Rossi.
He wore no body armor.
He held an assault rifle in one hand and a heavy combat blade in the other.
His eyes were completely black with rage, a demon unleashed upon the mortal world.
“Rossi!” Carmine screamed, lunging toward Sarah and pressing the tip of his knife against her throat.
“Drop your weapon or she dies right now!”
Gabriel didn't drop his weapon.
He didn't even slow down.
“Carmine,” Gabriel’s voice echoed through the warehouse like rolling thunder.
“You touched my wife.”
BANG.
Gabriel fired from the hip.
The bullet struck Carmine’s right shoulder, obliterating the joint and sending the knife flying from his shattered grip.
Carmine shrieked in agony, collapsing to the floor.
Valenti raised his silver revolver with shaking hands, aiming at Gabriel.
Before Valenti could pull the trigger, Sarah rocked her steel chair with all her remaining weight, slamming the legs into Valenti’s knees.
Valenti stumbled, his shot flying wild into the ceiling.
Gabriel crossed the remaining distance in a heartbeat.
He grabbed Valenti by the throat with his bare hand, lifted the grown man off his feet, and drove him violently into the concrete pillar.
The sickening crunch of bone echoed through the warehouse.
Valenti slid to the floor, lifeless.
Gabriel dropped his rifle.
He rushed to Sarah, slicing through the heavy ropes with his combat knife.
The moment the ropes fell, Sarah collapsed into his arms.
Gabriel crushed her against his chest, his hands burying themselves in her hair, his breath coming in ragged, desperate gasps.
“I have you,” Gabriel choked out, his voice cracking with raw emotion.
“I have you, Sarah. You’re safe. I’m here.”
Sarah buried her face into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent of cedarwood, gunpowder, and love.
“I knew you’d come,” she sobbed.
Gabriel kissed her forehead, her cheeks, and her bleeding lips with tender, desperate devotion.
Then he looked down at Carmine, who was whimpering on the floor, clutching his shattered shoulder.
Gabriel stood up, his eyes returning to pure, lethal ice.
“Marco,” Gabriel commanded without looking back.
“Take Don Moretti out to the frozen river. Cut a hole in the ice.”
“No! Gabriel, please!” Carmine screamed, clawing at the concrete as two guards dragged him away.
“Please! Have mercy!”
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Gabriel picked Sarah up in his arms, cradling her against his heart as he carried her toward the armored truck.
“The Rossi family,” Gabriel said softly into the cold winter air, “does not negotiate with ghosts.”
