Chapter 6 - The Breach at Hanover Street
Dante didn't hesitate for a single second.
The moment Marco uttered those words, the weary, vulnerable man vanished, replaced instantly by the lethal, calculating Don of the Moretti syndicate.
He reached under his desk, pressed a hidden release button, and pulled a sleek black 9mm handgun from a concealed drawer. He racked the slide with a sharp, metallic clack and tucked it into his shoulder holster.
“How did they find out about her?” Dante demanded, his voice dropping into an icy register.
“Someone leaked the archive records from the state police division,” Marco revealed, drawing his own weapon. “Sully O’Connor knows she’s Leo Bell’s widow. He thinks she has the offshore account keys Leo hid before he died.”
Mia felt her heart slam into her throat. “Account keys? I don't have any account keys! I didn't even know Leo had offshore accounts!”
“It doesn't matter what you have, Mia,” Dante said, grabbing his heavy overcoat and draping it over her shoulders before she could protest. “Sully O’Connor doesn't ask questions; he cuts throats first and searches pockets later.”
He took her arm in a firm, protective grip. “Marco, get the armored sedan to the alley. We move now.”
“Boss, there are two scout cars parked at the corner of Hanover and Fleet,” Marco warned. “They’ve set up a perimeter.”
“Then we cut through the tailor shop basement,” Dante commanded smoothly. “Move!”
They rushed out of the private office, descending the dark wood staircase that led to the ground-floor tailor shop. The air smelled of wool, steam, and old lavender.
Outside, the storm raged, rain hammering against the front display windows.
Suddenly, the front glass of the tailor shop shattered inward in a shower of deadly crystal.
Automatic gunfire roared through the quiet street, bullets tearing through the mannequins and silk bolts in the front display. Mia screamed, ducking behind a heavy mahogany cutting table as Dante pulled her down beside him, shielding her body with his own.
“Stay low!” Dante ordered, firing three rapid shots through the broken window frame.
A man in a heavy rain slicker fell backward onto the wet pavement outside, his weapon clattering across the cobblestones.
“Marco! Basement hatch!” Dante yelled over the deafening noise of the shootout.
Marco kicked open a heavy iron door behind the counter that led to the old storage cellars beneath the building. “Go! Go!”
Dante gripped Mia’s hand tightly, guiding her down the narrow stone steps into the pitch-black cellar. The air was cool, damp, and smelled of dirt and old wine barrels.
“Can you run?” Dante asked, stopping at the base of the stairs, his eyes scanning her face in the dim light filtering from above.
“I’m eleven weeks pregnant, Dante, not disabled!” Mia snapped, her survival instinct taking over her fear. “Where does this tunnel lead?”
Dante looked at her, a fierce, approving spark flashing in his hazel eyes despite the chaos. “It connects to the old bootlegging tunnels beneath the North End. It comes out three blocks away behind Saint Stephen’s Church.”
He pulled a small tactical flashlight from his pocket, illuminating the stone archway ahead. “Keep close to me. Do not let go of my hand.”
They moved quickly through the damp stone corridor, the sound of gunfire fading behind them as Marco held the basement stairs.
As they walked, Mia looked at Dante’s sharp profile in the flashlight’s beam. His jaw was tight, his eyes constantly scanning the shadows ahead, his body positioned always between her and any potential danger.
“Why did you do it, Dante?” Mia asked softly, her breath ragged as they navigated a pile of loose brickwork. “Four years ago. Why did you protect me? You didn't even know me.”
Dante didn't slow his pace, but his voice was soft against the stone walls.
“Because I saw you once,” Dante revealed quiet, almost reluctant. “Six months before Leo died. He brought you to a private dinner at the harbor house. You wore a green dress, and you spent two hours talking to the old dishwasher in proper Sicilian because he looked lonely.”
He paused, looking back at her in the dim light. “I saw a woman who possessed a heart too pure for the filth my business creates. When Leo ruined himself, I made a vow that his greed would not destroy you.”
Mia stared at him, her chest heaving, the sheer weight of his words crashing over her like a tidal wave.
May you like
Before she could respond, a heavy iron grate at the end of the tunnel was kicked open with a loud metallic crash.
Three men in dark coats stepped into the corridor, their weapons raised.
