Chapter 7 - The Thunder of South Chicago
Ten minutes later, the woods around Lake Forest exploded into a hellish storm of steel and fire.
Rinaldi’s strike team—eighty seasoned Caruso veterans driving five armored black pickup trucks—swept down the secondary access road with their headlights off, smashing through the rear wooden fence of the estate.
Carmine’s mercenaries, focused entirely on breaching the mansion's blast doors, were caught completely completely off guard.
Tracers cut through the torrential rain, lighting up the ancient oak trees in brilliant flashes of red and green. The sound of heavy automatic gunfire drowned out the thunder above.
Inside the subterranean bunker, the floor shook as explosions rocked the foundation forty feet above.
Victor Romano drew his weapon, his eyes darting toward the steel blast door. "They're breaching!"
"No," Dominic said, a cold, dark smile spreading across his pale face as he listened to the rhythm of the gunfire. "That's heavy caliber fire. That's Rinaldi's team. Claire made it."
Sophia let out a loud, shuddering sob, throwing her arms around her father's neck.
Dominic stood up, pulling a heavy tactical shotgun from the bunker's armory rack. He checked the chamber with a sharp clack.
"Ethan," Dominic commanded. "Open the blast doors. It's time to clean our house."
The heavy steel doors slid open with a deep, hydraulic groan.
Dominic led his remaining men up the stone stairs, his shotgun held low, his wound ignored through sheer, cold fury.
They emerged into the smoke-filled foyer just as Rinaldi’s men burst through the shattered front entrance. Carmine’s remaining mercenaries were trapped between the two forces, cut down in a brutal five-minute crossfire on the grand marble staircase.
When the last gun fell silent, the grand foyer of the Caruso estate was littered with debris, glass, and ruined silk drapes.
Dominic stepped over the wreckage, walking out onto the front terrace into the rain.
Standing near the fountain, wrapped in a heavy tactical blanket provided by a Caruso medic, was Claire Bennett. She was shivering, covered in mud and coal dust, her hair matted against her face.
Dominic walked toward her, his heavy boots splashing through the crimson water pooled on the stone steps.
He didn't speak. He reached down, wrapped his broad arms around her small shoulders, and pulled her into his chest, holding her tight against his heart despite the blood soaking through his own bandages.
Claire stiffened in surprise for a second, then relaxed into his strength, letting out a long, ragged breath.
"You saved us, Claire," Dominic whispered into her wet hair, his voice rough with emotion. "You saved every single one of us."
Behind them, Ethan emerged from the house, holding three-year-old Lily in his arms.
The little girl saw her mother, gasped, and wriggled out of Ethan's grip, running across the wet stone on her little pink shoes.
May you like
"Mommy! Mommy!" Lily cheered, throwing her arms around Claire's mud-stained knees. "Look! Mr. Caruso let me keep Barnaby!"
Claire dropped to her knees, gathering her daughter into her arms, kissing her face a hundred times while Dominic stood over them like a towering shadow of absolute protection.
