They Poured Champagne on the Blind Dog for Laughs, but the Mafia Boss Knew They Were Hiding Something Worse

The armored SUV skidded to a halt sideways across the pier, blocking the primary gangway leading up to the freighter.

Instantly, muzzle flashes erupted from the upper deck of the cargo ship as Thomas’s mercenaries opened fire. Bullets slammed into the armored glass and heavy body panels of the SUV with deafening thuds.

"Cover!" Dominic barked, kicking his door open and firing back over the hood with lethal accuracy. Two mercenaries fell from the ship's railing, splashing into the icy harbor water below.

Caleb and Dominic’s men returned fire, creating a wall of lead that pinned the remaining gunmen behind heavy steel shipping containers.

"Mara! Stay in the car!" Dominic shouted over the roar of gunfire.

"Dominic, look!" Mara pointed up toward the stern of the vessel.

Through the rain and shadow, standing near the edge of the lower deck, was Thomas Croft. He was dragging a small, frightened girl wrapped in a oversized yellow rain jacket.

Even from fifty yards away, the girl’s dark hair and pale face were unmistakable.

"MIA!" Dominic’s voice cracked through the night sky like a thunderbolt, carrying a father’s six years of agony and love across the rainy pier.

The little girl froze, her head snapping toward the sound. "DADDY?!" she screamed, her voice tiny and sweet against the howling storm. "DADDY! ROOK!"

Thomas grabbed Mia by her arm, dragging her violently toward a small speed boat suspended from the ship’s davit crane. "Get in the boat, you little brat!" Thomas yelled, drawing a snub-nosed revolver and pressing it against the child's shoulder.

"DOMINIC, NO!" Mara screamed as Dominic broke cover, running blindly toward the gangway, completely exposing himself to enemy fire.

A mercenary on the container crane aimed his rifle directly at Dominic’s chest.

ROAR!

A streak of pure black muscle and fur burst from the passenger door of the SUV.

Rook didn't need eyes to hear the mechanical click of the rifle bolt or the scent of the man above the pier. The blind Cane Corso launched his ninety-pound frame off the bonnet of a rusted sedan, launching himself straight at the mercenary’s throat.

The dog slammed into the gunman, dragging him off the elevated platform. Both hit the wooden deck below, the mercenary’s rifle clattering harmlessly into the ocean.

"Good boy, Rook!" Mara screamed, running down the pier right behind the dog, using the container shadows for cover. "RIGHT! TARGET AT THE CRANE, ROOK! RIGHT!"

Rook turned instantly to Mara’s voice, his cloudy eyes unseeing, but his ears locked onto her commands with absolute perfection. He charged up the wooden gangway, a terrifying phantom of vengeance guided by the voice of the woman who had saved him.

Dominic reached the lower deck first.

Thomas turned, raising his revolver toward Dominic’s face. "Stay back, Dominic, or I swear to God I’ll put a bullet through her!"

"You won't touch her again," a cold, dark voice whispered from behind Thomas.

Rook hit Thomas from the side like a runaway freight train.

The blind dog’s heavy jaws clamped around Thomas’s wrist, snapping the bone with an audible CRACK. The revolver flew out of Thomas’s hand, spinning across the wet deck into the dark sea.

Thomas screamed in agony, falling backward onto the wooden floorboards as Rook pinned him beneath his massive paws, growling with a deep, subsonic rage that shook the timber.

"Rook, HOLD!" Mara’s voice rang out across the deck.

The massive dog froze instantly, his jaws resting inches from Thomas’s throat, waiting for the command.

Dominic didn't look at Thomas. He dropped his gun onto the deck, stepping past the groaning traitor, and dropped to his knees in front of the small girl in the yellow rain jacket.

Mia stood frozen, tears streaming down her pale cheeks, mixing with the falling rainwater. In her tiny hands, she clutched a wet paper drawing of a sunflower.

"Mia..." Dominic whispered, his voice trembling so violently he could barely form the word.

"Daddy?" Mia whispered back softly. She reached out one small, trembling hand, her tiny fingers touching the silver hair at Dominic’s temples, then tracing the hard line of his jaw. "You came... Rook brought you..."

Dominic pulled his daughter into his arms, crushing her against his chest as if he would never let her go again. He buried his face in her dark hair, smelling the faint, unmistakable scent of lavender, sandalwood, and sweet clover.

Six years of icy, unyielding darkness melted away completely in the rain. Dominic Vale wept openly, holding his living miracle against his heart while the storm raged around them.

Behind them, Mara stood beside Rook, her hand resting gently on the blind dog’s head. Rook leaned his heavy body against her leg, letting out a soft, happy sigh as Mia reached out from her father’s embrace and wrapped her tiny arms around the dog's wet neck.

"I missed you, Rook," Mia sobbed softly into his fur.

The dog licked the tears from her cheek with a slow, gentle sweep of his tongue.

Dominic lifted his head, looking up from his daughter to Mara. His gray eyes were clear, filled with a warmth that no one in Boston had seen in a decade.