Chapter 7 - Blood and Mahogany
The interior of the slaughterhouse transformed into a kill zone. Smoke hung thick beneath the halogen lights, punctuated by the sharp, rhythmic flashes of automatic gunfire. Marcus and the Reyes strike team poured through the breached entry points, locking down the exits and suppressing Moretti’s men with relentless discipline.
Julian was scrambling backward toward the rear exit, his composure entirely shattered. He had counted on Damon being blown to pieces on the highway. He had counted on an easy extortion, a quick rise to power. He had not prepared for Damon Reyes fighting like a man who had something to protect.
“Kill him! Shoot him!” Marco Moretti screamed, ducking behind his bodyguards as he stumbled toward his armored SUV parked near the rear loading bay.
Damon ignored Moretti. His target was Julian.
Damon stepped out from behind the steel frame, firing with mechanical precision. Two bullets found the chest of the guard covering Julian’s retreat. The man collapsed like a sack of wet flour.
Julian turned, raising his gun, his hands shaking violently. “Damon! Wait! It was Moretti! He threatened my family! He forced me to—”
Damon didn't slow his pace. He marched forward through the drifting cordite smoke, his eyes locked onto his former lieutenant.
“You brought a bomb into my house, Julian,” Damon said, his voice terrifyingly calm amidst the thunder of rifle fire around them. “You touched a child’s life. You broke the only rule that mattered.”
Julian pulled the trigger. The bullet grazed Damon’s right shoulder, tearing through the fabric of his jacket and leaving a crimson streak, but Damon didn't even flinch.
Damon reached Julian in two strides, grabbing the barrel of Julian’s gun with his bare left hand, twisting it upward until the bone in Julian’s wrist snapped with a loud crack.
Julian screamed, falling to his knees as the weapon dropped to the floor.
Damon caught Julian by the throat, lifting him off the ground and slamming him brutally against the concrete pillar beside Elena’s chair.
“Damon... please...” Julian choked out, his eyes bulging as his feet kicked helplessly in the air.
“You asked Elena for the keys,” Damon whispered into Julian’s ear. “I’m the only key you needed to worry about.”
With a swift, brutal jerk of his arm, Damon ended Julian’s life, dropping the lifeless body onto the cold concrete like a discarded rag.
Silence began to fall over the slaughterhouse as the remaining gunfire ceased. Marcus and his men swept the floor, securing the perimeter. Marco Moretti was pinned against his SUV, two Reyes operatives holding him by his arms, his face pressed flat against the muddy vehicle hood.
Damon turned away from Julian’s body. He walked over to Elena, pulled a tactical knife from his vest, and sliced through the thick ropes binding her arms and legs.
The moment the ropes fell away, Elena collapsed forward into Damon’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably.
“Ruby...” she gasped, her hands clutching his arms. “Where is Ruby? Is she—”
“She’s safe,” Damon said softly, his voice dropping the murderous edge it had held moments ago. He pointed toward the steel meat trolley. “She’s right behind you.”
Elena scrambled across the floor on her knees. Ruby popped her head out from behind the steel frame, her eyes teary, holding her muddy stuffed rabbit.
“Mommy!”
The mother and daughter collided in a blur of tears, hugs, and frantic kisses. Elena rocked her daughter back and forth, holding the toddler as if she might vanish into the air if she let go for even a single second.
Damon stood over them, wiping a smudge of grease and blood from his cheek. He looked down at the pink suitcase Marcus had carried inside during the assault, setting it gently beside the kneeling mother and child.
Marcus approached Damon, wiping his sweat-streaked forehead. “Moretti is secured, boss. What do we do with him?”
Damon walked over to the old mob boss, who was shivering against the hood of the car, his arrogant composure entirely gone.
“Damon... listen to me,” Moretti stammered, his eyes darting frantically. “We can make a deal. The docks... the offshore accounts... take it all. Just let me leave the city.”
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Damon stared down at the old man who had tried to murder him and incinerate a child for a piece of territory.
“You’re old, Marco,” Damon said quietly. “And you’re forgotten. The city doesn't belong to men like you anymore.” He looked over at Marcus. “Turn him over to the federal authorities along with the financial ledgers in Elena’s bag. Let him spend the rest of his miserable life in a maximum-security cell watching my family take everything he ever owned.”
