Chapter 4 - The Pine Forest Ambush
The door of the Suburban clicked shut, sealing Lily and me inside the bulletproof glass cabin.
Through the rain-streaked window, I watched Dominic walk calmly across the muddy gravel driveway toward the pine trees where the black Expedition was parked. He didn't rush. He didn't draw his weapon. He walked with his hands in the pockets of his long black wool coat, his shoulders broad against the gray wilderness.
Behind us, the second Moretti SUV blocked the entrance to the driveway, cutting off any escape route for the pursuers.
The driver's door of the black Expedition burst open.
A tall man in a dark leather jacket stepped out into the damp air. He had a harsh, scarred jawline, thinning dark hair, and cold, sunken eyes that I recognized instantly even after four years of nightmares.
Vincent Rossi.
Two other heavily armed men stepped out from the passenger sides, holding pistols at their sides.
"Moretti!" Vincent shouted across the clearing, his voice rough and laced with desperate aggression. "You're a long way from your Upper East Side palace!"
Dominic stopped ten feet away from Vincent. He took his hands out of his pockets, standing tall against the damp mountain wind.
"Vincent Rossi," Dominic said, his voice carrying clearly through the silent woods. "I hear you've been bothering my house staff."
Vincent sneered, gesturing toward the Suburban with his gun. "That's my woman in that truck! And that's my daughter! You think because you wear a three-thousand-dollar suit you own everything in New York? Clara belongs to me!"
"Clara belongs to no one," Dominic said coldly. "And her daughter doesn't know your name."
"I don't give a damn what she knows!" Vincent roared, stepping forward, leveling his pistol directly at Dominic's chest. "You're gonna unlock that truck, hand over the girl, and wire five hundred thousand dollars to my overseas account for 'inconvenience,' or I swear to God I'll put a bullet through your head right here in the woods!"
Dominic didn't even blink. He didn't look at the gun pointed at his chest.
Instead, Dominic looked at his watch—a gold Rolex that glinted in the dim forest light.
"You're thirty seconds late, Vincent," Dominic remarked casually.
Vincent frowned, his eyes darting sideways. "What?"
A sharp, deafening snap echoed through the woods.
THWACK!
Vincent’s right hand suddenly exploded in a spray of red as a high-powered sniper round tore through his wrist from the ridge three hundred yards away. Vincent shrieked in agony, dropping his gun into the mud and collapsing to his knees, clutching his ruined hand.
Before his two bodyguards could even raise their weapons, four heavily armed tactical operators in unmarked black gear emerged from the dense pine trees behind them.
"DROP THE WEAPONS! FEDERAL MARSHALS! DROP THEM NOW!"
The two bodyguards threw their guns into the dirt, raising their hands in absolute terror. Within five seconds, both men were slammed face-down into the cold mud and handcuffed.
I gasped inside the Suburban, clutching Lily against my chest as I watched the scene unfold.
Dominic walked slowly up to the kneeling, screaming Vincent Rossi. He kicked Vincent's dropped pistol deep into the bushes, then leaned down, pulling a folded white document from his coat pocket.
"You thought you were following me, Vincent," Dominic said, dropping the document onto the mud in front of the bleeding man. "I've been working with the United States Attorney's office for three weeks. That's a federal warrant for interstate kidnapping, witness intimidation, and parole violation."
Vincent looked up through tears of agony, his face pale with shock. "You... you set me up..."
"You followed my housekeeper," Dominic said, his voice turning into an icy whisper that made even the federal marshals shudder. "You frightened a three-year-old child. You are going to spend the rest of your life in a maximum-security facility in Colorado, Vincent. And if you ever speak Clara's name again... I won't send the Marshals next time."
Dominic turned his back on the groaning man, adjusting his coat cuffs as the federal agents hauled Vincent into the back of an unmarked van.
May you like
Dominic walked back to the Suburban, opened the door, and stepped inside.
"It's over, Clara," he said softly, looking at me with eyes that were suddenly remarkably gentle. "He will never hurt you again."
