Chapter 6 - The War Cabinet
We returned to the estate at 2:00 a.m.
The fortress was on high alert. Floodlights illuminated the perimeter, and dozens of armed men in tactical gear lined the driveways. The peaceful sanctuary had transformed into a military command post.
Dominic sat in the study while a private physician stitched his arm without anesthesia. Dominic didn't even wince; his eyes were glued to three tactical screens set up on his desk, displaying live feeds from Castellano's properties across the five boroughs.
I stood by the window, wearing a clean sweater and jeans Mrs. Gable had brought me, holding a cup of untouched tea.
"Sal has gone into hiding," Leo reported, stepping into the room with a bloody tactical vest slung over his shoulder. "He locked himself in his estate in Long Island. He brought in forty mercenaries from the West Coast."
"Then we burn Long Island," Dominic said, his voice cold enough to freeze water.
"Dominic, wait," I said, stepping away from the window into the light of the desk lamp.
Both men looked at me. Leo looked annoyed; Dominic looked attentive.
"What is it, Lydia?" Dominic asked softly.
"Sal isn't in Long Island," I said.
Leo snorted. "Our intelligence says otherwise, miss. His entire inner circle went through the gates twenty minutes ago."
"It's a decoy," I argued, walking up to the desk and pointing at one of the tactical maps. "My father worked for Sal's secondary logistics team for two years. Whenever Sal got scared of federal indictments or rival hits, he never went to his main estate. He went to the old meatpacking plant near the Red Hook piers."
Dominic leaned forward, his icy eyes narrowing. "The Red Hook facility was abandoned three years ago."
"That's what the city thinks," I countered. "My father took me there once when I was fourteen because he forgot his keys. There's a fully operational bunker beneath the refrigeration units. It has its own power generator and direct access to a private boat launch."
Leo looked at Dominic, his skepticism melting into shock. "Is she telling the truth?"
Dominic didn't look at the map. He looked at me, searching my face for any sign of doubt. "How do you know he's there tonight?"
"Because when we were at the Plaza," I explained, "Sal was wearing a silver vintage watch with a red leather strap. My father told me that watch belonged to Sal's brother, who died at Red Hook. Sal only wears it when he's preparing to flee the country from the docks."
Silence fell over the war room.
A slow, terrifying smile spread across Dominic Russo's face. It was the smile of a king who had just been handed his enemy's head on a silver platter.
"Leo," Dominic commanded smoothly. "Cancel the Long Island strike. Redirect all teams to Red Hook. We leave in ten minutes."
He stood up, walking around the desk toward me. He reached out, his long fingers gently tucking a loose lock of hair behind my ear.
"You continue to surprise me, Lydia," he murmured.
"I want to come with you," I said suddenly.
Dominic's smile vanished. "Absolutely not."
"I know the layout of that building better than your men do," I insisted, stepping closer to him. "There are three blind spots in the security camera system that my father helped install. If you go in through the main doors, his guards will see you on the monitors and Sal will be on a speedboat before you reach the basement."
Dominic stared at me, his jaw working as he weighed the risk. "If you get hurt—"
"You said I belong to you," I reminded him, my voice unwavering. "Then let me help you finish this."
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Dominic let out a low, growling sigh, his hand wrapping around the back of my neck, pulling my forehead against his chest. "If you take a single step away from Leo or me, I will lock you in a room for a month. Understand?"
"Understood," I whispered against his skin.
