Chapter 10 - The Alliance Broken
In the soundproof concrete cellar beneath the mansion, two men sat tied to heavy metal chairs beneath the harsh glare of a single hanging lightbulb. Both were battered, bloody, and stripped of their tactical vests.
Nicholas entered the room slowly, removing his suit jacket and folding it neatly over a wooden crate. He rolled up his pristine white shirt sleeves, exposing the dark, intricate tattoos that wound around his forearms—symbols of the Sicilian blood oath he had taken twenty-five years ago.
Marco stood in the corner, holding a heavy iron wrench.
Nicholas pulled up an empty metal chair, turned it backward, and sat directly across from the lead infiltrator—a man with a broken nose whose tactical patch read *Vance*.
“Vance,” Nicholas said quietly, checking the man’s dog tags on the table. “You used to run black ops for private security firms in Dubai. Now you’re breaking into private residences to kidnap four-year-old girls. You’ve fallen quite far.”
Vance spat a mouthful of blood onto the concrete floor. “Go to hell, Moretti. We’re private contractors. We don't talk. Kill us and be done with it. Marcus Hart pays better than you ever could.”
Nicholas didn't lose his temper. He simply glanced at Marco.
“Marcus didn't hire you,” Nicholas said smoothly. “Marcus is arrogant, but he understands business. He knows that kidnapping a child under my roof means total extermination. This sloppy, emotional operation has Vivienne’s fingerprints all over it.”
Vance’s left eyelid twitched—a micro-expression that didn't escape Nicholas’s notice.
“Vivienne contacted you directly, didn't she?” Nicholas continued, leaning forward. “She used her personal trust fund to pay your retainer. She wanted the girl brought to her family’s private hunting cabin in the Catskills so she could ‘teach the maid’s brat a lesson’ before using her to force me back to the altar.”
Vance remained silent, but the growing dread in his eyes gave him away.
“Here is how this plays out, Vance,” Nicholas said, his tone utterly devoid of humanity. “You have sixty seconds to give Marco the exact GPS coordinates of Vivienne’s location and the access codes to the Hart family compound. If you do, I will have Dr. Evans set your broken bones, put ten thousand dollars in your pocket, and put you on a cargo freighter to South America.”
“And if I don't?” Vance rasped defiantly.
Nicholas leaned back, his eyes dead and cold. “If you don't, I will leave you in this room with Marco. Marco has a very creative imagination, and he has been exceptionally bored lately.”
Ten seconds passed in suffocating silence.
Vance looked from Nicholas’s merciless eyes to Marco, who casually tapped the iron wrench against his palm with a sinister grin.
The mercenary broke.
“The Catskills,” Vance gasped, his voice cracking with terror. “Mile marker 42 off Route 28. Vivienne is there right now with four more men. She’s waiting for the girl. She said once she had the kid, she was going to burn the girl's hands on the stove so she could never steal again!”
A deafening silence fell over the cellar.
Nicholas slowly stood up. The vein in his temple throbbed with a lethal fury that made even Marco stiffen.
“Marco,” Nicholas commanded quietly.
“Yes, boss?”
“Call the five families. Tell them the Hart syndicate has violated the sacred covenant of family protection. As of tonight, Marcus Hart and his entire bloodline are declared *persona non grata* in the state of New York.”
Nicholas reached for his suit jacket and slipped it back on.
“And what about Vivienne, boss?” Marco asked.
May you like
Nicholas walked toward the heavy steel exit door, pausing with his hand on the cold iron latch.
“Bring the cars around,” Nicholas said, his voice echoing off the concrete walls like an executioner’s toll. “I’m going to the Catskills to collect my ring.”
