Chapter 4 - THE MESSAGE FROM THE NORTH SIDE
The drive home took twelve minutes.
The rain beat a relentless rhythm against the windshield of their battered Honda Civic.
Inside, neither spoke.
The silence wasn't cold.
It was heavy with unspoken history.
Three years ago, Lena had found Matteo bleeding in an alley behind a dockside warehouse in Brooklyn.
He had carried a satchel of cash and a dozen enemies.
She had patched his wounds.
He had given up his gun.
They had crossed state lines, changed their names, and buried the syndicate deep beneath quiet highway diners and small-town anonymity.
Until tonight.
They pulled into the gravel driveway of their small ranch house.
Matteo killed the engine immediately.
“Stay in the car,” he ordered, reaching into the glove compartment.
He didn't pull out a gun.
He pulled out an old burner phone.
The screen lit up with a single text message.
“Welcome back, Matteo. The waterfront misses its king.”
No sender name.
But the digital signature was unmistakable.
Dante Moretti.
Matteo stared at the glowing text.
His jaw tightened until the bone showed white through his skin.
“Matteo?” Lena’s voice trembled from the passenger seat.
“Who is it?”
May you like
“An old friend,” Matteo said coldly.
“Who wants to die.”
