Page 117 of Shadows of Steel
I answer, my voice cutting. “Speak.”
“Boss, it’s the Albanians. I suspect an ambush.”
A muscle tenses in my jaw. “How many?”
“At least a dozen. We need reinforcements.”
A frigid stillness settles over me, lethal in its restraint. “I'm on my way.”
I end the call, grabbing my clothes in record time.
Harlow, still draped in a towel, watches me with narrowed eyes. “Is everything all right?”
I stride over, fingers curling beneath her jaw as I claim her mouth in a searing kiss. “No. But it will be.”
Before she can ask more questions, I turn and walk away.
***
The instant we step onto the port, gunfire shatters the silence. Chaos erupts. There’s no time to assess, no room for hesitation, bullets tear through the air, men diving behind cargo containers as the acrid scent of gunpowder and blood thickens the air.
I move with lethal precision, my gun spitting rounds as my men return fire with merciless efficiency. Leonardo and Mario flank me, methodical. Bodies drop. Agonized screams carve through the fray.
Amid the smoke and carnage, my gaze locks onto one of the Albanians, familiar. Wounded. He drags himself toward cover,desperation in every sluggish movement. I don’t give him the chance.
One shot. Right between the eyes.
The fight rages on, until a raw, feral scream tears through the chaos. I pivot, weapon still raised, just in time to see a man charging through the haze, blind with fury.
“You motherfucker!” he roars, voice breaking with wrath. “That was my brother!”
Unfortunate for him.
Mario’s voice crackles through my earpiece, crisp and cutting. “Boss, that’s him. Luan. The Albanian leader.”
I smirk. The poor bastard just made the worst mistake of his life, choosing to go to war with us.
His eyes blaze with the promise of bloodshed, his hand trembling as he points a finger at me, voice raw with hate. “You’ve just made an enemy out of me, Salvatore.”
I arch a brow, unimpressed. “Am I supposed to find that threatening?”
His lips peel back in a snarl. “Keep your eyes on your family. Because when you least expect it, I’ll be there.”
I lift my gun, finger tightening on the trigger, locked onto him with keen focus. A clean shot. A kill. But just as I fire, a barrage of bullets forces me to shift, my aim thrown off as metal ricochets dangerously close.
Luan vanishes into the smoke, his silhouette dissolving in the chaos.
A growl vibrates in my chest as I reload. He slipped through my fingers.
This isn’t over. Not by a long shot.
By the time I drive back to the estate, night has fully settled, draping the world in shadows. The tension in my jaw is locked tight, my body still thrumming with the aftershock of adrenaline.
I left Mario in charge of the cleanup. Right now, all I want is a goddamn shower.
The drive is quiet, the rhythmic hum of the engine the only sound as I navigate the winding roads home. But just as the gates of the estate come into view, something shifts. A faint rustle from the back.
Every muscle in my body coils tight, my grip firm on the wheel. I don’t react, not yet. A seasoned predator never alerts his prey. But my eyes flick to the rearview mirror, tracking every movement, every shift in the dim interior.
