Chapter 8 - Vengeance on the Water
Rain poured from the black sky, churning the dark waters of Long Island Sound into violent, foaming whitecaps. The estate’s private boathouse groaned against the surging tide.
Inside, Vittorio Rossi paced nervously next to a twin-engine offshore cigarette boat. He wore a heavy waterproof slicker, clutching a tactical duffel bag stuffed with counterfeit passports and stacks of hundred-dollar bills.
""Where are they?!"" Rossi shouted into his satellite radio. ""Mendoza, report! Did you secure the Moretti girl?!""
Only static answered his call.
Suddenly, the heavy wooden sliding doors of the boathouse rattled and slid open. The howling coastal wind drove rain inside, accompanied by a long, dark silhouette stepping through the threshold.
Max walked in first, limping slightly, his golden eyes reflecting the yellow hanging dock lights. Behind him strode Alessandro Moretti, drenched in rain, holding no weapon in his hands—only cold, absolute finality.
Rossi flinched, instinctively drawing his chrome-plated .45 pistol. ""Stay back, Moretti! I swear to God, I’ll blow your head off! You think you rule this city?! You took everything from me! You banished me like a stray dog!""
""You were a dog who bit the hand that fed you,"" Alessandro said, walking toward him with slow, deliberate steps, completely unbothered by the gun pointed at his chest. ""I spared your life five years ago because your father was an honorable man. That was my sin. That mercy cost my daughter her safety and nearly cost her life.""
""She’s just a bastard kid!"" Rossi screamed hysterically, his finger tightening on the trigger. ""A bastard from a florist girl you threw away!""
Max sprang forward with explosive speed.
Rossi fired, but the bullet tore through the wooden dock planks as the German Shepherd slammed into his midsection. Both dog and man crashed onto the slippery cedar boards. The chrome pistol went skittering across the dock, plunging into the dark, churning ocean water below.
Rossi shrieked, kicking wildly, managing to shove Max backward. He scrambled on his hands and knees toward the duffel bag, pulling a serrated combat knife from his boot.
Before he could rise, Alessandro’s heavy boot came down hard on Rossi’s wrist, shattering the small bones with an audible crack. The knife clattered away.
Alessandro gripped Rossi by the collar of his slicker, lifting him effortlessly off the ground and dangling him over the raging edge of the dock above the black, freezing water.
""Please... Alessandro... for my father’s memory..."" Rossi choked out, his face turning purple under Alessandro’s vice-like grip.
""Your father would spit on you for hunting women and children in the dark,"" Alessandro whispered coldly into his ear. ""Tell the devil that Alessandro Moretti sent you to settle the debt.""
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With a single thrust of his powerful arms, Alessandro hurled Rossi into the churning black tide. The disgraced gangster surfaced once, thrashing against the crushing undercurrent and the razor-sharp rocks flanking the sea wall, before the Sound swallowed him whole into the abyss.
Alessandro stood at the edge of the dock, rain washing away the soot and blood from his hands. Beside him, Max sat on his haunches, lifting his muzzle to the rain and letting out a long, victorious howl into the storm.
