Scars of the Syndicate

In a matter of three seconds, the hallway turned into a war zone.

Luca descended the stairs with terrifying speed, his Sig Sauer pistol drawn, firing two precise, deafening shots that shattered the light fixtures above Marco’s head and forced the intruders to scatter for cover behind the marble pillars.

Dante and three backup enforcers swarmed through the side doors, cutting off the escape routes.

Marco cursed, pulling a knife and holding it dangerously close to Leo’s throat. "Stay back, Moretti! One step closer and the kid bleeds right here on your pretty marble floors!"

Luca stopped dead in his tracks.

The deadly stillness in his gray eyes was far more terrifying than any scream. For the first time since Nora had known him, Luca’s mask of calm control completely vanished, replaced by the raw, unbridled fury of a man watching his entire world held hostage.

"Drop the knife, Marco," Luca whispered. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried the chilling weight of a death sentence. "If you touch one hair on his head, I won't just kill you. I will dismantle every member of your bloodline until there is nothing left of your name in this city."

Marco’s hand trembled. The absolute, unyielding menace in Luca’s voice broke his nerve.

With a curse, Marco shoved Leo toward the open doorway—right into Nora’s outstretched arms—and lunged toward the broken window to escape.

He didn't make it.

Dante’s sidearm barked once. Marco dropped instantly, tumbling onto the gravel courtyard outside.