Chapter 10 - Reign of Ashes
The grand staircase of Moretti Manor had become a slaughterhouse.
Smoke billowed through the shattered corridors as Lorenzo and Evelyn fought side-by-side, descending through the central hall. The gunfire was continuous, the crack of automatic weapons reverberating through the marble pillars.
Lorenzo moved with terrifying precision, dropping two attackers attempting to flank the landing. Evelyn leaned around a marble bust, firing controlled bursts, suppressing three mercenaries advancing up the west wing. She was no longer the trembling girl from the restaurant; survival and Lorenzo's dark influence had forged her into steel.
"Matteo! Fall back to the grand foyer!" Lorenzo shouted over the roar of combat.
Matteo, bleeding heavily from a shoulder wound, retreated down the hallway, firing his sidearm until the slide locked back. "Boss, they have twenty men in the courtyard! They're trying to set fire to the ground floor!"
"Let them burn it," Lorenzo replied with cold authority. "We end this at the harbor."
They fought their way through the basement tunnels beneath the estate, emerging onto the private concrete dock where the Moretti family's reinforced yacht was moored against the crashing waves of Lake Michigan.
Standing on the rain-soaked pier, waiting with six heavily armed mercenaries, was Marcus Vane—Victor’s younger brother and the commander of the family’s mercenary army.
"End of the line, Moretti!" Marcus yelled over the howling wind, leveling a shotgun at them. "Hand over the ledger and the girl, and I'll let you die quickly!"
"You talk too much, Marcus," Lorenzo called back, stepping out onto the open dock without fear, the rain drenching his black shirt.
Marcus pulled the trigger, but Lorenzo dove to the concrete, rolling to his feet and firing three consecutive rounds directly through Marcus's chest.
Gunfire erupted between the remaining mercenaries and Matteo's men. In the chaos, a rogue shooter lunged toward Lorenzo with a raised rifle.
Evelyn didn't hesitate. She sprinted across the wet concrete, raising her submachine gun, and emptied the entire magazine into the attacker, dropping him inches before he could reach Lorenzo.
The storm slowly took over the silence as the last of the Vane mercenaries fell into the dark, churning waters of Lake Michigan.
The battle was over. The Vane dynasty was entirely extinguished.
Lorenzo stood among the bodies in the pouring rain, breathing heavily. He lowered his weapon and turned to look at Evelyn.
She stood on the edge of the pier, drenched, exhausted, holding the smoking gun, her chest heaving as the cold wind whipped her dark hair across her face. She looked lethal, untouchable, and breathtaking.
Lorenzo walked toward her, closing the distance between them. He took the empty weapon from her trembling hands and tossed it into the lake, where it vanished beneath the black waves.
He pulled her into his arms, wrapping his strong, bloodstained hands around her waist, lifting her slightly off her feet. Evelyn buried her face in his neck, wrapping her arms tightly around his broad shoulders, anchoring herself to the only certainty left in her world.
"It's done," she whispered against his skin.
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"It's only beginning," Lorenzo murmured, his voice fierce with dark devotion.
He leaned down and captured her mouth in a deep, passionate kiss beneath the raging Chicago storm. The city behind them belonged to them now—an empire built on blood, secured by secrets, and ruled by the king of the underworld and the waitress who had saved his life.
