Chapter 7 - The Last Stand of the Don
Smoke and dust poured into the study.
Three men in black tactical gear burst through the breached doorway, their assault rifles raised.
Daario didn't wait. He stepped out from behind the desk, firing with lethal, rhythmic precision.
POP-POP. POP-POP.
The first two men went down instantly, struck through the helmet visors. The third fired a wild burst that chewed up the ceiling plaster before Daario's third shot dropped him in the doorway.
Daario stepped over the fallen men, snatching an assault rifle and two fresh magazines from a tactical vest.
He knew the layout of the mansion better than anyone alive. It was built with secret passages, reinforced safe rooms, and subterranean escape tunnels dating back to the Prohibition era.
"Mia, come!" Daario called out.
The little girl scrambled out from beneath the desk. Daario picked her up, holding her tightly against his hip while keeping the rifle raised with his right arm. He hurried down the long, portrait-lined hallway toward the master bedroom.
Behind them, the sounds of battle raged throughout the lower levels of the house.
The loyal members of the Moretti household guard—men who hadn't taken Marco's bribes—were fighting back, engaging Scalese’s mercenaries in heavy firefights on the main staircase and in the grand foyer.
As Daario reached the end of the hall, a shadow stepped out from the secondary stairwell.
It was Salvatore Scalese himself, holding a chrome-plated revolver, flanked by his eldest son, Leo.
"End of the line, Daario!" Scalese yelled, his face twisted in manic triumph. "Marco is dead, your house is burning, and your empire dies tonight!"
Leo Scalese raised his shotgun, aiming directly at Daario and the child in his arms.
"No!" Daario roared.
Instead of retreating, Daario charged forward, diving onto the hardwood floor while keeping Mia cradled safely against his belly.
He fired the assault rifle from the floor, a single continuous burst that stitched across Leo Scalese’s chest, dropping him instantly.
Salvatore screamed in rage as his son fell. He aimed his revolver down at Daario, but before he could pull the trigger, a loud shot echoed from behind him.
A bullet struck Salvatore in the shoulder, spinning him around.
Mrs. Gable, the elderly housekeeper, was standing at the top of the stairwell, holding a double-barreled hunting shotgun that belonged to Daario’s late wife.
"Get away from my master, you bastard!" the old woman screamed, racking the second barrel.
Salvatore stumbled back in agony, firing wild shots into the ceiling as he retreated down the stairs toward his remaining men.
Daario scrambled to his feet, checking Mia frantically. "Are you hit? Are you okay?"
"I'm okay! I'm okay!" Mia cried out, clinging to his neck.
Daario looked at Mrs. Gable, nodding in profound gratitude. "Take the secret lift in the pantry, Mrs. Gable! Get to the carriage house! I’ll draw the rest of them toward the front!"
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"Donato, you can't fight them all!" she pleaded.
"I don't have to fight them all," Daario said, his face setting into a terrifying mask of absolute resolve. "I just have to make sure my granddaughter leaves this place alive."
