Chapter 8 - THE AMBUSH AT MIDNIGHT
Our fragile peace was a dangerous illusion. Two days later, we received word that the head of the Vieri family, old man Carlo himself, had rallied the remaining commission to demand Damiano’s head for the massacre.
We were preparing to move to a black-site location in Europe when the alarms blared. It wasn't an external attack this time; it was a breach from the inside. The tunnels beneath the mountain had been compromised.
"They brought mercenaries," Enzo yelled over the comms, gunfire already echoing up the spiral staircases. "Too many of them, Boss. We have to take the chopper now!"
Damiano grabbed my hand, hoisting Nico into his other arm. "Roof. Now!"
We sprinted through the opulent halls as paintings shattered and marble pillars exploded around us. Bullets zipped through the air like angry hornets. Damiano fired back with lethal precision, never breaking stride. We hit the rooftop just as the helicopter blades began to whir, slicing through the freezing mountain rain.
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"Get in!" Damiano roared, shoving me and Nico into the cabin.
But as Enzo covered our flank, a sniper round caught him in the shoulder. Enzo went down hard. Without hesitating, Damiano threw himself out of the chopper to drag his lieutenant to safety.
