Chapter 7 - The Reckoning at the Gates
"Damian!" Marco stuttered, stepping back toward his two gunmen. "Listen to me—this is business! Vane owed us forty grand! You protected him—"
"I don't give a damn about Hector Vane," Damian said, his voice terrifyingly calm as he stepped over the debris on the floor. "And I don't give a damn about his debts."
"Then let us take the girl!" Marco yelled, raising his pistol with a shaking hand. "She was his wife! She’s collateral!"
Before Marco could pull his trigger, Damian fired three rapid shots.
The two gunmen standing beside Marco dropped instantly, their weapons clattering against the marble floor. Marco let out a shriek of panic, dropping his gun as he fell backward onto his hands and knees, scrambling away from the walking nightmare advancing on him.
Damian closed the distance, planting his heavy boot squarely on Marco’s chest, pinning the rival mobster to the ruined floor.
"You came into my home," Damian whispered, bending down until his dark eyes were inches from Marco’s terrified face. "You threatened my people. You terrified a woman who has suffered enough at the hands of weak men like you."
"Please!" Marco begged, tears mixing with the blood on his face. "My brother—the Don—he'll pay for the damage! We'll leave the city! Just don't kill me!"
Damian looked up as the panic room door slowly unlocked and hissed open.
Elena stepped out into the foyer, flanked by Rosalind. She was pale, her hands trembling, but as she looked across the ruined hall and saw Damian standing over the man who had brought terror to her doorstep, she didn't run. She walked slowly toward them, her eyes fixed on Damian.
Damian looked down at Marco, then back at Elena.
"What should I do with him, Elena?" Damian asked quietly, offering her the ultimate choice. "He brought violence into your home. He tried to hurt you."
Marco looked up at the young maid, his eyes wide with desperate pleading. "Please, lady! I didn't know—I was just following the money! Tell him to let me go!"
Elena stopped three feet away from them. She looked at Marco—a man who represented the same cruel, entitlement-driven violence that Hector had inflicted on her for years. Then she looked at Damian—a man who had used his immense, terrifying power to shield her, to give her a life, and to treat her with dignity.
"He doesn't belong here," Elena said softly, her voice steady and clear. "Don't stain your home with his blood, Damian. Make him leave... and make sure he never comes back."
Damian stared at her for a long moment, a slow, quiet respect filling his chest. He turned his gaze back down to Marco.
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"You heard her," Damian said, lifting his boot off Marco’s chest. "You have one hour to get out of Chicago. If my men see you, your brother, or any member of the Moretti family within city limits after midnight, I will personally burn your empire to the ground."
Marco didn't wait to be told twice. He scrambled to his feet and fled through the shattered front doors into the rain, disappearing into the dark night.
