Chapter 7 - The Blood Hunt
Rain poured down over the abandoned shipping yards of South Boston like a curtain of gray steel.
Inside an old, decaying warehouse near the docks, Claire and Sophie were tied to two wooden chairs in the center of the room. A single spotlight shone down on them from the high steel rafters.
Sophie was weeping softly, terrified by the dark, cold environment, burying her face into her mother’s side as much as the ropes permitted.
"It's okay, baby, it's okay," Claire whispered desperately, trying to soothe her while straining against the thick ropes binding her wrists. "Uncle Dominic is coming. He's coming for us."
Standing twenty feet away, Sean O'Connor paced back and forth, holding a silver revolver in his hand. Five heavily armed mercenaries stood near the entrance, their rifles trained on the dark driveway outside.
"Dominic Vale isn't coming to save you, sweet heart," O'Connor laughed bitterly, his voice echoing off the rusty metal walls. "He’s going to come here to watch you die! Once I eliminate his precious little secret, the Commission will realize Vale has no heirs left. His empire will collapse!"
"You're a monster!" Claire spat, her brown eyes blazing with hatred.
"I'm a businessman, lady!" O'Connor yelled, stepping closer and raising the gun toward Claire’s forehead.
Suddenly, the massive metal garage doors at the front of the warehouse didn't just open—they blew completely off their hinges in a blinding, thunderous explosion of fire and metal.
The shockwave knocked O'Connor to the floor. The five mercenaries screamed as debris rained down on them.
Before the smoke could clear, four black armored vehicles smashed through the flames, surrounding the warehouse floor.
Dozens of armed Vale enforcers poured out of the vehicles, setting up a perimeter of ruthless fire. Silenced automatic weapons chattered through the smoke, dropping O'Connor’s mercenaries one by one before they could even aim their rifles.
Then, walking straight through the burning wreckage of the entrance, came Dominic Vale.
He wore no body armor. He held a heavy black pistol in his right hand. He walked with slow, deliberate steps through the fire and smoke, his face an immovable mask of death.
O'Connor scrambled backward on the concrete floor, desperately reaching for his dropped revolver.
Dominic didn't even slow down. He fired a single shot.
The bullet struck O'Connor’s hand, shattering his fingers and sending the revolver spinning across the floor. O'Connor shrieked in pain, clutching his bloody hand against his chest, backing up until he hit the tires of an armored car.
Dominic walked right up to O'Connor. He didn't say a word. He raised his heavy leather boot and brought it down on O'Connor’s chest with crushing force, pinning the Irish boss to the cold concrete floor.
"Please... Dominic... please!" O'Connor begged, tears of pure terror streaming down his dirty face. "It was New York! They forced me to do it! Don't kill me!"
Dominic looked down at him with dark, emotionless eyes.
"You touched my family," Dominic said softly.
He didn't fire another shot. He simply signaled Noah, who stepped forward and clicked heavy steel handcuffs around O'Connor’s wrists.
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"Federal marshals are waiting outside, Boss," Noah reported quietly. "We have enough evidence of O'Connor’s kidnapping, extortion, and murders to put him in maximum security for three lifetimes."
Dominic turned away from the groveling boss, putting his pistol back into his shoulder holster. He rushed toward Claire and Sophie.
