Dante’s POV
The warehouse came alive.
The last crates were being loaded into the convoy trucks, and my crew worked with the efficiency of oiled machines, swiftly, but my instincts wailed that something was off.
I scanned the premises.
Soft noises of cargo being shifted met the crisp morning air, but my mind was honed to a razor.
“Everything set, boss,” Alex came up to me with his usual impassive face.
“No signs of trouble. Looks like we’re in the clear.”
I nodded, but the tension really chewed at me.
“Let’s not get too comfortable just yet. I want extra eyes on the route. Rocco’s been quiet, and I don’t trust it.” After that message, it’s been more than a week and I haven’t heard anything from him again.
Alex’s face blackened.
His cock-sure expression fell somewhat.
“We’ve doubled security on this run. Anything suspicious, we’ll handle it.”
I said nothing.
Something wasn’t adding up.
Rocco Cafaro wasn’t the kind of guy to let things go that easy, and with that message, he was out for blood.
The question was, where and when?
As the convoy moved out, I rode alongside them with my Dad, Luca Draven.
We’ve done hundreds of these shipments.
But today seems different, the silence in the car, the unease, it all pointed to something bad coming our way.
“Dante,” Alex’s voice finally crackled over the radio, breaking my reverie.
“We’re coming up on the intersection. No one’s in sight, so far.”
I leaned forward in my seat, my hand clenching on the armrest as I peered ahead through smoked windows.
“Stay alert,” I said, sharper than I’d meant to.
And then it happened.
Shots erupted from both sides of the street as bullets showered the convoy from buildings to either side.
The glass exploded throughout the SUV and my heart seemed to leap into my throat.
“Ambush!” Alex yelled.
“Get down!” I yelled, pulling my gun out of its holster, but it was too late, the convoy was already taking a withering hail of gunfire.
I saw my guys go down, trying to get some cover, some falling as they were hit.
The car in front of me slammed on brakes and just stopped there, out in front of us.
I kicked open the door and dove behind the vehicle as bullets began to ping off the metal.
All around me, bedlam reigned, men yelling, guns booming, and through it all, the searing cognition that this wasn’t just a robbery.
This was Rocco’s move.
I returned fire, scanning for an exit point, but the attack was too coordinated.
They had us pinned down.
My cell phone buzzed in my pocket, but I was ignoring it, focusing on the gunmen perched above.
“Dante!” I heard Alex’s voice cut through the noise.
“We need to fall back!”
I squatted behind the side of the SUV and stood stock-still.
Just as I opened my mouth to scream a warning, I saw it.
The flash of the scope of a sniper.
“Dad! No!” I yelled running towards him, but it was too late.
The bullet caught him square against his abdomen and he crumpled into the ground.
“Dad!” I shouted a hoarse voice, feet pounding on asphalt as I closed the distance.
Two of my guys dragged him behind cover, but I could see the blood welling through his shirt, too much blood.
I fell beside him, my shaking hands pressed against the wound.
“Stay with me, Dad. Stay with me.”
His eyes flickered open pain etched into every line of his face.
“Dante…,” he gasped, his breath ragged.
“I’m… I’m fine.”
“Shut up,” I growled, my panic rising in my throat.
“You’re not fine, we need to get you out of here.”
The firefight raged on, but I was fixed on the steady well of blood pumping out of my father’s abdomen.
My men were lying down covering fire, yelling into radios, trying to get a retreat sorted, but my world had narrowed to the labored sound of his breathing.
“Boss, we have to move!” Alex dropped down beside me, his face pale.
“We can’t hold them off much longer.
I nodded; my throat was tight, “Get him in the car. Now!”
We heaved Luca between us, his body dead weight, and started running towards where the closest vehicle was.
The bullets whizzed past, striking the concrete, but some kind of miracle got us inside.
I scrambled in after him, yelling at the driver to floor it.
The shots grew and grew fainter, but my heart kept on pounding loudly in my ears.
I swung around, white-faced and breathing shallowly, to my father.
“Hang on, Dad. Just hang on,” I growled, and the hysteria didn’t surface.
We got to the hospital, and I was enveloped immediately in a blur of bright lights and frantic voices as the nurses and doctors swarmed my father, wheeling him away from me.
I stood frozen covered in his blood, my mind reeling from the attack.
I knew this would happen.
I knew Rocco wouldn’t let things slide.
And now my father pays the price.
“Dante,” Alex’s voice snapped me out of my reverie.
He was standing beside me, his face grim.
“We’ve got men posted outside.”
Rocco made his move.
We need to hit back.
I fisted my hands as rage boiled inside.
“Not yet. We wait till we know my father’s out of the woods. Then… we make him regret ever coming after us.”
Alex nodded, a face carved from granite.
“I’ll get the men ready.” Enjoying the story? Read on at g.com.
Turning to leave again, my phone buzzed once more.
I pulled it out of my pocket and read the text from one of my guys on the estate.
Camilla.
Immediately, guilt started kicking in.
Of course, I had forgotten to at least call her and let her know something terrible was going on.
Opening the message made my heart sink.
*Boss, Miss Camilla knows something is wrong; she’s getting worried.
What should I tell her*
I blew out a sharp breath, rubbing a hand over my face.
Of course, she’d be worried, she wasn’t oblivious to the danger piling up around us, and I’d dragged her right into the middle of it.
*Tell her I’ll call her soon*
I texted back, knowing that was nowhere near enough.
But right now, I couldn’t deal with her panic on top of everything else.
A few minutes later, the doctor came out, yanking his mask off.
“Mr. Draven?”
I stepped forward as my chest tightened.
“How is he?”
The doctor blew out a heavy sigh; his face slackened a fraction.
“He’s stable. The bullet missed any major organs, but he lost a lot of blood. We’ve got him in recovery, but he’s going to need rest. He’s lucky.”
Relief washed over me yet was short-lived, drowned by the fire of anger simmering just below the surface.
Lucky?
No. We weren’t targets.
This was Rocco’s warning shot.
It was to remind me of the message.
“Thank you, Doctor,” I said in a strained voice, watching him walk away before turning to Alex, who’d waited within earshot.
“We’re not waiting,” I growled low and deadly.
“Gather the men. It’s time for payback. Hard.”
Knowing light, Alex’s eyes gleam.
“Where do we start?”
I gaze out of the window, the city lights fluttering their greetings back at me from across the distance.
“We start with Rocco’s stronghold. If he wants a war, he’s going to get it.”
My decision weighed heavy in my head as I thought about Camilla, back home, oblivious to the bloodbath that was soon to unfold.
It had ceased being business a long time ago.
Rocco had made it personal.
I would make him regret that.