Chapter 7 - Sins of the Mother
Marcus's unexpected collapse threw the two mercenaries behind him into total confusion.
I didn't hesitate for even a fraction of a second.
I stepped out from cover and fired two precise shots into the chest of the closest mercenary.
He dropped instantly, his heavy weapon clattering loudly onto the stone floor.
The second gunman panicked and sprayed wild gunfire across the ceiling.
Concrete dust rained down upon us as I carefully realigned my sights and squeezed the trigger a third time.
The final mercenary slumped lifelessly against the tunnel wall.
Marcus was writhing on the ground, frantically reaching for his dropped rifle with a shattered knee.
I stepped firmly on his wrist, pinning his hand securely to the cold ground.
"Tell my mother I am coming for her," I whispered coldly before kicking him ruthlessly in the jaw.
Marcus went completely limp, knocked entirely unconscious by the brutal strike.
"We have to leave before the backup arrives," Elena gasped, clutching her fresh bandages.
I scooped Mia up in one arm, marveling at the cold, unbothered expression on her young face.
We navigated the remainder of the dark tunnel, moving swiftly toward the faint glow of moonlight ahead.
The tunnel finally terminated at a rusted drainage pipe overlooking a quiet state highway.
The heavy rain had just begun to fall, washing away the oppressive August heat.
Elena was losing blood rapidly, her skin glowing with an unnatural, ghostly pallor.
We desperately needed a vehicle, but the highway was completely deserted in both directions.
Suddenly, a sleek black armored sedan slowly crested the nearby hill and pulled onto the gravel shoulder.
The tinted passenger window smoothly rolled down, revealing the elegant interior of the luxury vehicle.
An elderly woman with perfectly coiffed silver hair sat comfortably in the back seat.
She wore a tailored silk suit and an expression of absolute, terrifying serenity.
It was my mother, the undisputed Matriarch of the Moretti crime family.
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She looked directly at me, her dark eyes devoid of any maternal warmth or affection.
"Get in the car, Adrian," she commanded smoothly, as if ordering a child to finish his dinner.
