Chapter 7 - A Dangerous Safe Haven
Dominic moved like lightning.
The first shot took Matteo out before he could even register the movement, the bullet hitting him cleanly between the eyes. He collapsed onto the floor without a sound.
Before the remaining three men could pull their triggers, Dominic threw his body over me and the girls' bed, firing three rapid-fire shots over his shoulder. The room exploded into a deafening roar of gunfire and shattering glass as the balcony windows gave way under the impact.
Shot 1: The man on the left went down, his weapon clattering against the hardwood.
Shot 2: The second man staggered backward, crashing through the broken balcony railing into the dark courtyard below.
Shot 3: The third man fled into the night, realizing the ambush had completely collapsed.
The silence that followed was thick with the scent of gunpowder and copper. Dominic didn't move for a long moment, his heavy frame shielding the four of us from any stray rounds. His breathing was ragged, his chest heaving against my shoulder.
"Are you hurt?" he breathed, his hands checking my face, my arms, before turning instantly to his daughters. "Are you okay? Did they touch you?"
The triplets didn't cry. They climbed out of the blankets, their small arms wrapping around Dominic’s neck all at once. They buried their faces into his blood-stained shirt, their little bodies shaking, but their voices finally clear.
"We're okay, Daddy," Mia sobbed. "We're okay."
Dominic let out a broken, shuddering sob—a sound I knew he had never allowed himself to make in front of another living soul. He squeezed his daughters tightly, his eyes shutting as he held his entire world in his arms.
"We have to move," I said quietly, placing a hand on his back. "The house isn't safe anymore, Dominic. If Matteo could get in, others can too."
Dominic looked up, his expression hardening back into the resolute leader, but his eyes held a new, unshakeable clarity. "You're right. We leave New York. Tonight."
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Within an hour, we were in the back of an armored SUV, speeding toward a private airfield on Long Island. The girls fell asleep huddled against my side, exhausted by the trauma of the night, while Dominic sat in the front seat, his phone glued to his ear as he gave orders to liquidate his remaining New York holdings.
He was walking away from the throne. He was giving up the empire Matteo had tried to steal. Because he finally understood that the most valuable thing he owned wasn't the city; it was the voices of his children.
