Chapter 4 - The Detroit Reckoning
The flight to Detroit was silent, the private luxury jet cutting through the stormy skies over the Midwest. Damian sat in the leather captain's chair, reviewing the blueprints of Donato Falcone’s heavily fortified estate in the suburbs of Grosse Pointe.
"We have twelve men on the ground, Damian," Marcus reported, checking the action of his suppressed pistol. "The Falcone syndicate thinks we’re still in California. They have no idea we traced the money laundering file back to their primary server."
At 11:00 PM, the attack began without a single sound. Damian’s team breached the rear security fence of the Falcone mansion, disabling the security cameras with military-grade signal jammers.
Damian walked through the front doors of the estate like a ghost passing through walls. Two of Falcone’s guards tried to draw their weapons in the grand foyer, but Marcus’s team neutralized them before they could even scream.
Donato Falcone was sitting in his leather recliner, a glass of expensive cognac in his hand, when the heavy oak doors of his study were kicked off their hinges. He scrambled for the gold-plated revolver on his desk, but Damian was faster. He stepped into the room, his boot coming down hard on Donato’s hand, crushing the bones against the polished wood.
"Agh! Who the hell are you?" Donato screamed, his face contorted in agony as he looked up at the tall, dark figure in the black coat. Then, recognition hit him like a physical blow. "Rivas...? No. You’re dead. We killed you eight years ago!"
"Elena Saldaña saved me, Donato," Damian said, his voice flat, his gray eyes devoid of any human mercy. He leaned down, his face inches from the trembling mob boss. "And three days ago, you burned her alive for a piece of real estate."
Donato’s eyes widened with terror as he realized the true nature of the nightmare standing before him. "It was business, Rivas! Just business! The city council wanted that block! I didn't know she was connected to you!"
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"Everything she loved was connected to me," Damian said, pulling the flash drive from his pocket. "I have your ledgers, Donato. I have the names of every judge, every politician, and every cop you bought. Your empire is already gone. But your debt... your debt is personal."
Damian nodded to Marcus. "Take him to the basement. I want him to experience exactly what it feels like when the room fills with smoke."
