Chapter 7 - The Rescue and the Reckoning
Inside the cold, concrete floor of the south grain silo, Claire was tied to a chair under a single hanging lightbulb. Her dress was torn at the hem, her dark hair messy, but her face showed no tears.
Standing across from her was Don Moretti, holding a glass of cheap whiskey, a smug, cruel smile on his face. Beside him stood four heavily armed guards.
"You really thought you were special, didn't you, girl?" Moretti mocked, stepping closer to her. "You thought a fat little maid could play queen of Ravensport? You're nothing but bait. Once Vale signs over his empire to save your pathetic life, I’ll throw you off the top of this silo into the bay."
Claire looked up at him, her dark eyes completely devoid of fear. The weeks she had spent with Dominic, feeling his unconditional love and respect, had transformed her. She was no longer the weak, broken girl who let men abuse her.
"Dominic is coming," Claire said, her voice steady and icy. "And when he gets here, you are going to beg for mercy."
Moretti laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "He’s one man! I have thirty men surrounding this building—"
BANG!
The entire building shuddered as a massive explosion tore through the lower entrance of the silo. The overhead lights flickered once and plunged the room into total darkness.
Shouts and heavy gunfire echoed up through the concrete shaft from the lower floors, rapid and unrelenting.
"What the hell was that?!" Moretti screamed in panic, dropping his whiskey glass. "Check the stairs! Check the elevators!"
Before his guards could move, the heavy steel door of the top floor was blown inward off its hinges with a deafening crash.
Through the dust and smoke stepped a nightmare.
Dominic Vale moved like a phantom through the shadows, two silenced weapons blazing in his hands. Before Moretti’s guards could even raise their rifles, three of them collapsed to the floor with precise, lethal shots to the chest and head.
The fourth guard grabbed Claire, pulling his pistol toward her head, but Dominic didn't miss a beat. A single shot cracked through the gloom, striking the guard directly between the eyes. He collapsed like a sack of stones.
Moretti scrambled backward, tripping over his own feet, pulling a small revolver from his coat.
Dominic walked out of the smoke. His tactical vest was splattered with blood, his face dark, his gray eyes fixed entirely on Moretti. He didn't fire his weapon. He simply walked up, kicked the revolver out of Moretti’s hand, breaking the old man's fingers, and grabbed him by the throat.
Dominic lifted the heavy mob boss off the ground with one hand, slamming him against the concrete wall.
"I told you," Dominic whispered, his voice sounding like grinding iron. "I told you what would happen if you touched her."
"Vale... please... mercy..." Moretti choked out, his eyes bulging as his feet kicked helplessly in the air.
Dominic didn't answer. With a single, brutal motion, he snapped Moretti’s neck and dropped the lifeless body to the floor like trash.
Dominic turned instantly toward Claire. The deadly, terrifying aura surrounding him vanished in a second, replaced by pure, desperate worry. He pulled out a combat knife, quickly slicing through her ropes, and pulled her into his arms.
"Claire! My God, Claire! Are you hurt? Did he touch you?" Dominic rasped, his hands frantically checking her face, her arms, her body, pulling her tight against his broad chest.
Claire buried her face into his neck, holding onto him with all her strength, smelling the familiar scent of cedar beneath the smoke and gunpowder.
"I'm okay, Dominic," she sobbed happily, kissing his jaw, his neck, his cheek. "I knew you’d come. I knew you wouldn't let him hurt me."
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Dominic held her so tightly she could barely breathe, burying his face in her dark hair, his massive body trembling with the lingering adrenaline and profound relief.
"I will never let anyone hurt you again," Dominic swore into her hair. "Never."
