Chapter 7 - Storm Warning on the AtlanticThe autumn squall broke overhead with sudden, violent fury. Sheets of rain lashed against the reinforced glass of the drydock, turning the dark waters of Slip Four into a churning basin of white foam and black shadows. Inside the massive industrial warehouse surrounding the drydock, the atmosphere was charged with electric intensity.
Teresa stood near the upper gantry walkway, wrapped in a heavy wool overcoat Dante had draped over her shoulders. Below her, the massive steel hull of the Atlantic Sovereign loomed like a dormant leviathan. Floodlights cut through the driving rain, illuminating the tactical teams as they swarmed the gangplanks with cutting torches and digital scanners.
Dante stood at the edge of the gantry beside her, his gaze fixed on the main cargo hatch.
“You don't have to watch this, Teresa,” Dante said quietly, his voice pitched low to cut through the roar of the wind and rain. “You've already carried enough weight tonight.”
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“I want to stay,” Teresa replied, her voice steady and clear. She looked up, meeting his slate-gray eyes directly. “For Maria. For your sister Rosa. And for every person Vincent Rossi thought he could crush beneath his boots.”
Dante held her gaze for a long moment, a slow, deep warmth replacing the absolute ice in his eyes. He reached out, gently brushing a stray lock of wet hair away from her cheek. “You are far stronger than any boardwalk elite I have ever known, Teresa Cruz.”
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