Chapter 12 - The Iron Retribution
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The wooden pavilion shuddered as Dante Rinaldi breached the glass entryway like a force of nature.
He was not wearing a tactical vest or a helmet; he wore his dark bespoke suit, wielding a heavy customized pistol.
His eyes were completely black with an apocalyptic rage that no human being could withstand.
Behind him, Marco and six elite Rinaldi enforcers flooded the room, cutting down the mercenaries with clinical precision.
The mercenary who had struck my shoulder barely had time to raise his weapon before Dante closed the distance.
Dante grabbed the barrel of the rifle, deflecting it toward the ceiling as two rounds shattered the timber beams.
In the next fluid motion, Dante drove his fist into the man's throat, crushing his windpipe instantly.
The mercenary collapsed, choking on his own blood, as Dante drew his sidearm and put a bullet through his chest.
Within twelve seconds, the four intruders lay dead or dying on the shattered glass of the carousel.
The heavy silence that followed was broken only by the hiss of dissipating smoke and Mia’s terrified sobs.
Dante dropped his smoking weapon, ignoring the dead bodies, and dropped to his knees beside us.
“Sarah!” he roared, his voice cracking with a raw, agonizing panic I had never heard from him before.
His hands were shaking violently as he reached down to pull me up from the floor.
“Mia... is she hurt?” I wheezed, pain radiating through my shoulder and down into my ribs.
Mia scrambled out from beneath me, crying hysterically, throwing her arms around Dante’s neck.
“Daddy! Daddy! Miss Sarah saved me!” Mia sobbed against his collar.
“The bad man hit her! He hit Miss Sarah!”
Dante held Mia with one arm, using his other hand to support my trembling body against his chest.
He looked at my bruised, swollen shoulder and the blood trickling from a cut near my hairline where glass had grazed me.
A terrifying, inhuman sound rumbled deep in Dante’s chest—a sound born of pure, primal hatred.
He looked up at Marco, who was checking the pulse of the fallen mercenaries.
“Search them,” Dante commanded, his voice shaking with restrained fury.
Marco pulled a satellite phone and an encrypted identification card from the team leader's tactical vest.
“Geneva extraction specialists, boss,” Marco confirmed, looking up with grim fury.
“The remote authorization signal just came from the St. Regis hotel.”
“Julian and Isabella are already there, waiting for the council to assemble.”
“They tried to secure the girl before the meeting so you couldn't use the forgery as leverage.”
Dante slowly stood up, carrying Mia in his left arm while gently helping me to my feet with his right.
He looked at the dead mercenaries on the carousel floor, then looked back at me.
The fierce, terrifying don had tears of profound agony in his dark eyes as he looked at my injuries.
“You took a bullet for my world, Sarah,” he whispered, his voice trembling against my ear.
“I just... couldn't let them take her,” I whispered, lightheadedness beginning to pull at the edges of my consciousness.
Dante pulled me close, pressing his lips to my temple with a tenderness that defied the carnage around us.
“Marco, take Sarah and Mia to the medical wing immediately.”
“Have Dr. Bianchi administer painkillers and stitch her wounds.”
Marco stepped forward to support me, but hesitated.
“What about you, boss?”
Dante bent down and picked up his heavy firearm from the floor, sliding a fresh magazine into the chamber with a lethal click.
“Have the drivers bring the black SUVs to the front gate.”
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“The council meeting starts in one hour.”
“And tonight, the Romano family ceases to exist.”
