Chapter 7 - The Hunt Begins
The peace inside the Moretti fortress was short-lived. By morning, the criminal underworld of New York had erupted into open warfare.
Stripped of their inside informant, the Volkov family knew their window to usurp Dante was closing rapidly. News of Bianca’s arrest had leaked to the streets. Rival factions were taking sides, and the city felt like a powder keg waiting for a spark.
Dante spent forty-eight hours straight in his war room, coordinating strikes, fortifying supply lines, and cutting off the Russians' financial arteries. I remained by Leo's side, keeping him isolated from the growing tension. We painted, we baked cookies, and we created sensory maps of the estate gardens.
On Friday evening, Dante entered the living quarters, looking haggard and grim. He had shed his suit jacket, wearing a tactical vest over his black shirt.
""We are moving tonight,"" Dante announced, checking the clip of his sidearm.
""Moving? Where?"" I asked, my heart skipping a beat.
""To our safehouse upstate in the Adirondacks. It’s off the grid, reinforced with subterranean shelters. The Volkovs hired international mercenaries. My men intercepted chatter indicating they plan to hit this estate with heavy artillery before dawn.""
""Is it safe to transport Leo?"" I worried, looking at the little boy who was peacefully stacking wooden blocks. ""Sudden travel can cause an extreme meltdown.""
""Staying here is suicide,"" Dante said bluntly. He knelt before me, taking both of my hands in his. ""I have chartered a private convoy. Three decoy vehicles will take the highway. We will take the coastal backroads in an unmarked armored SUV. I need you to keep him calm, Sophie. Can you do that for me?""
""I will protect him with my life,"" I promised.
""I know you will,"" Dante replied, his eyes dark with an emotion that bordered on reverent. ""Now let's go.""
The convoy departed at 2:00 AM under a veil of heavy coastal fog. The night was eerily still. In the back of the armored SUV, Leo had his noise-canceling headphones on, his head resting in my lap as I rhythmically stroked his hair and tapped out our four-beat count against his knee.
Dante sat in the front passenger seat, eyes scanning the dark tree line along the twisting coastal highway. His radio buzzed with static.
""Decoy One is clear past White Plains,"" his lieutenant reported over the comms. ""Decoy Two—wait. Decoy Two is under fire! Repeat, Decoy Two is taking RPG fire on the Interstate!""
Dante grabbed the radio. ""Reroute Decoy Three to divert! Driver, step on it—""
May you like
Before Dante could finish his sentence, the world exploded into violence.
A blinding flash illuminated the trees ahead. An armored truck slammed into our vehicle from a hidden access road, spinning our SUV across the wet asphalt. Glass shattered, metal shrieked, and the car slammed violently into a concrete barrier, pinning us against the edge of the rocky cliff.
