Chapter 9 - When a Don Breaks His Vows
The iron struck bone with a sickening thud.
Celeste screamed, her arm collapsing.
Her gun went off harmlessly into the wooden roof beams.
She spun around, clawing at my face with her diamond-tipped nails.
"You filthy servant! You ruined my life!"
Her nails raked across my cheek, drawing hot blood.
We hit the wet concrete together, rolling among broken glass and spent casings.
She was fighting like a rabid animal, trying to gouge my eyes.
I brought my bandaged left fist down.
The agony in my palm was blinding, but the impact smashed directly across her
perfect, sculpted nose.
Blood exploded from Celeste’s face.
Her cartilage crunched beneath my knuckles.
She shrieked in shock, rolling onto her back, hands clutching her bleeding face.
"That was for the thermos," I panted, kneeling over her, chest heaving.
Across the warehouse, Salvatore Moretti had reached the edge of the pier.
He jumped into the waiting speedboat.
He untied the mooring line, gunning the dual outboard engines.
"CASTELLANO!" Moretti yelled through the rain. "YOU CAN'T STOP THE WHOLE
SYNDICATE! YOU'RE ONE MAN!"
Richard didn't chase him.
He walked to the edge of the wooden dock.
He looked down at the control box for the heavy maritime cargo hoist.
A six-ton steel shipping container hung suspended by massive chains forty feet
above the harbor slipway.
Richard pulled a lever.
The heavy iron winch released.
The six-ton container fell like an asteroid.
It struck the center of Moretti’s speedboat with the force of an artillery
shell.
The vessel was crushed into splintered fiberglass and iron beneath the dark
water.
A massive wave of black ocean water surged up over the pier, washing away the
blood.
Nothing rose to the surface except oil slicks and floating wood.
Silence fell over Warehouse Four.
Only the hum of the dying generator and the sound of falling rain remained.
May you like
Richard turned slowly.
He walked toward his mother.
