Chapter 7 - The Blood Price At Saint Jude’s
The infant was wrapped in clean white linen, her tiny red face resting securely against Elena’s exhausted, sweat-soaked chest. But the miracle was immediately shattered by the violent crack of an exterior explosion that shook the stone walls of the subterranean infirmary. Dust sifted down from the vaulted ceiling onto the marble altar.
""They found us,"" Marco said, re-entering the chamber with an empty assault rifle and a bandaged shoulder. ""Thomas tracked the Suburban’s tire signature from the bridge cameras. Luca and Marcus Hayes have surrounded the entire convent perimeter with forty men. They're breaching the courtyard.""
Dante stood up from the wooden chair beside the bed. Sister Beatrice was gently tending to Elena, whispering Latin prayers over the newborn. Dante buttoned a fresh black shirt over his heavily bandaged torso. His face was entirely devoid of emotion—a mask of absolute, unadulterated vengeance.
""How many men do we have left?"" Dante asked quietly.
""Six,"" Marco answered grimly. ""And about two hundred rounds of ammunition. Boss... we can't hold the courtyard for more than ten minutes.""
Elena reached out with a trembling hand, grabbing Dante’s wrist. Her brown eyes were wide with desperate clarity. ""Dante, no. You can't go out there. There are too many of them.""
Dante leaned down, resting his forehead against hers. ""They came here for my head, Elena. If I stay in this room, they will bring the walls down on top of you and our daughter. I will draw them toward the main chapel. Marco will lead you and the sisters through the underground utility aqueduct that empties into the Cicero railway yard.""
""I am not leaving you behind to be butchered!"" Elena cried, tears streaming down her pale cheeks. ""Take us with you!""
""You gave me the greatest gift a broken man could ever ask for,"" Dante whispered, pressing his lips against his daughter's soft, warm forehead. ""Her name is Sophia. After my mother. She has your beautiful eyes, Elena.""
He pulled a heavy platinum signet ring from his finger—the ancient crest of the Moretti family patriarch—and slipped it onto a thin chain around Elena's neck. ""If I don't walk out of that chapel, you take this ring to the council in New York. Salvatore Rossi owes me his life. He will grant you full protection, the entire offshore trust, and sovereign immunity. You raise our daughter far away from this darkness.""
Before Elena could scream, Dante turned to Marco. ""Get them out. Now. That is an executive order.""
Dante turned and walked up the stone steps without looking back.
He entered the grand chapel above. The lightning outside cast long, sinister shadows through the broken stained-glass saints. The massive oak front doors were suddenly blown off their iron hinges by a breaching charge.
Through the drifting smoke walked Luca Moretti, Marcus Hayes, and a dozen heavily armed syndicate enforcers. Luca held a custom submachine gun, his eyes gleaming with sadistic delight as he saw Dante standing alone at the steps of the high altar, holding a single combat blade in his left hand and his empty sidearm in his right.
""Look at the mighty Don Dante Moretti,"" Luca sneered, his voice echoing off the vaulted cathedral ceiling. ""Cornered like a dog in a nun’s basement. Where is your army now, brother?""
""I don't need an army to kill a coward who hides behind old men,"" Dante said calmly.
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Marcus Hayes stepped forward, a smug grin on his weathered, cruel face. ""Your reign is over, boy. Sign the digital asset transfers, or we burn this convent to the ground with everyone inside.""
Dante smiled—a cold, terrifying grin that made Luca take half a step backward. ""You shouldn't have brought your whole leadership into an enclosed space, Marcus.""
