Chapter 1 - The Ghosts of Dust
The black SUV sat idling at the edge of the gravel driveway like a mechanized predator.
Its heavily tinted windows reflected the harsh, unforgiving glare of the late August sun.
I kept my hand perfectly still beneath the lapel of my tailored Italian jacket.
My fingers rested comfortably against the cold steel of my concealed weapon.
Beside me, the little girl named Mia stood clutching her heavy metal wrench.
She did not look afraid.
Her mother, Elena, was a completely different story.
Elena stood paralyzed on the wooden porch of her dilapidated countryside garage.
All the healthy warmth had instantly drained from her beautiful face.
Her wide eyes were locked on the reinforced grill of the armored vehicle.
I recognized the custom suspension and ballistic plating immediately.
It belonged exclusively to the Moretti family motor pool.
Nobody in my organization knew I had taken this deserted route through northern Dutchess County.
I had personally ensured every tracking device on my sedan was permanently disabled.
"Do you know them?" Mia asked again, her small voice cutting through the heavy silence.
I ignored the child and focused entirely on the driver's side door.
"Elena," I said slowly, keeping my eyes locked on the imminent threat.
"Take your daughter and get behind the house right now."
She didn't move a single muscle.
Instead, she parted her pale lips and whispered a name I hadn't heard in over a decade.
"Dante."
My heart stopped beating for a fraction of a terrifying second.
Dante Moretti was my ruthless uncle.
He was also a man I had personally watched burn to death in a warehouse fire twelve years ago.
I had struck the match and locked the heavy steel doors myself.
The armored door of the SUV finally groaned open.
A pair of tactical combat boots crunched down onto the dry summer gravel.
A tall man stepped out into the afternoon heat, but he was not my dead uncle.
It was Marcus, my most trusted bodyguard and the man who had saved my life three separate times.
He ruthlessly racked the slide of his tactical assault rifle and pointed it directly at my chest.
My mind raced to comprehend how a man I loved like a brother could stand against me.
"Sorry, Boss," Marcus yelled across the dusty yard with genuine regret in his eyes.
"Dante sends his absolute best regards."
Before I could even draw my weapon, Elena pulled a small black detonator from her apron pocket.
May you like
She pressed the glowing red button with a devastatingly sad smile.
The ground directly beneath the heavy SUV erupted into a blinding pillar of hellfire.
