Chapter 5 - The Reign of Fire
The night erupted into madness.
Daario’s men opened fire with suppressed, disciplined precision. The red laser dots vanished into flashes of muzzle light that illuminated the rain-slicked courtyard in blinding strobes.
Bruno’s mercenaries, completely outmatched and caught in a textbook crossfire, scattered in absolute panic. Two SUVs were instantly disabled as heavy caliber rounds tore through their engine blocks.
"RETREAT! GET TO THE TRUCK!" Bruno screamed, dropping his shotgun and diving behind the wheel of the lead SUV.
Tomas Ramos didn't even attempt to fight. He turned and sprinted blindly toward the broken front gates, weeping hysterically as bullets whipped through the air around him.
Daario didn't rush. He walked down the terrace stairs with slow, terrifying purpose.
A mercenary lunged from behind a stone pillar, raising a pistol. Without even turning his head fully, Daario raised his sidearm and fired two rounds into the attacker's chest, dropping him instantly onto the wet gravel, before continuing his stride uninterrupted.
He reached the fleeing figure of Tomas Ramos near the fountain.
Daario caught Tomas by the back of his denim collar, hauling the younger man backward off his feet and slamming him brutally against the icy stone edge of the water basin.
Tomas let out a strangled gasp, looking up into the face of the man holding him. Daario’s dark eyes were devoid of any human warmth—they were the eyes of death itself.
"P-Please!" Tomas whimpered, blood trickling from his nose, his hands clawing uselessly at Daario’s grip. "I'm her husband! I'm Matteo's father! You can't kill me!"
"A father protects his blood," Daario whispered, his voice dangerously soft as he pressed his thumb against Tomas’s windpipe, cutting off his air. "A man who sells his son for gambling debts is not a father. He is a parasite."
"I'll leave!" Tomas choked out, his eyes bulging with terror. "I'll sign divorce papers! I'll never come back! Just let me live!"
Daario stared at him with pure disgust. "You will sign the papers. You will surrender every legal right to the boy. And then my men will put you on a cargo ship to South America. If you ever set foot on this continent again, Tomas... I will not use a bullet."
He shoved Tomas face-down into the cold water of the fountain. Leo Vance immediately stepped forward, grabbing Tomas by his collar and dragging him away in plastic flex-cuffs.
Fifty yards away, Bruno Valenti’s SUV was surrounded by eight of Daario’s men, their rifles pointed through the shattered windows.
Bruno was pulled from the vehicle and thrown onto his knees on the wet driveway, covered in mud and glass.
Daario walked over, stopping in front of the bleeding rival underboss.
"Daario... please..." Bruno gasped, holding his hands up. "The Valenti family will pay... we will give you the north territory! Just let me go!"
Daario looked down at Bruno with cold indifference. "Tell your Don that the Valenti family has twenty-four hours to vacate the city. If a single one of your men is seen north of the river after tomorrow sunset, I will personally burn every property you own to the ground."
"Understood! Yes! We'll leave!" Bruno sobbed, bowing his head to the mud.
Daario turned his back on the defeated man. "Get him out of my sight."
Ten minutes later, the courtyard was cleared. The rain washed the oil and blood down the stone drains, leaving the estate once again enveloped in a quiet, serene darkness.
Daario walked back into the grand house, holstering his weapon. He took a white linen towel offered by Leo, wiped the rain and grime from his face and hands, and walked straight up the grand staircase toward the west wing.
He reached the nursery. He walked to the back wall, tapped the release lever, and entered the code into the keypad.
The heavy steel door unlocked with a loud click.
Daario pulled the door open.
Inside, Elena was sitting on the leather sofa, holding a sleeping Matteo tightly against her chest. When she saw Daario standing in the doorway—unharmed, calm, his posture strong—a long, ragged sob broke from her throat.
She stood up, ignoring all protocol, all fear, and ran across the safe room floor, throwing her free arm around Daario’s neck.
Daario froze for a fraction of a second, entirely unaccustomed to being held. Then, slowly, he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her and the baby close against his chest.
"It's over, Elena," Daario whispered into her dark hair. "They are gone. You are safe."
"Tomas..." she sobbed into his shirt. "Did he—"
"Tomas will never bother you again," Daario assured her gently. "He is signing away all parental rights tonight. You and Matteo are free."
Elena pulled back slightly, looking up into his dark face. She saw the quiet sincerity, the absolute protection in his eyes, and realized that for the first time in her life, she didn't have to run anymore.
"Thank you, Daario," she whispered.
May you like
Daario looked down at the sleeping baby in her arms, then back at Elena, a rare, breathtaking warmth filling his heart.
"No, Elena," Daario said softly. "Thank you for coming into my house."
