Chapter 3: Blood and Crayons
The aftermath of the school play was supposed to be a joyous occasion, filled with cookies and juice boxes in the school cafeteria. Damiano stood near the corner, arms crossed, watching as Mia proudly showed off her drawing to the other children. No one dared approach them.
Suddenly, Rafael’s voice crackled quietly through the earpiece hidden in Damiano’s left ear. "Boss. We have a situation. Three unidentified vehicles just parked at the rear exit of the school. Heavily armed. It looks like Marchetti’s men. They think you're exposed."
Damiano’s expression didn't change, but his jaw locked, a muscle ticking violently in his cheek. He had known the Five Families would test him, but to do it here? At a school? Surrounded by children? Silvio Marchetti had just signed his own death warrant.
"Lock down the front," Damiano murmured quietly into his lapel microphone. "Send the alpha team to the rear. No one enters. No one leaves. Muffle the suppressors. I don't want the children frightened."
"On it, Boss."
Damiano walked smoothly across the room, his long strides eating up the distance until he was standing behind Mia. He placed a heavy, protective hand on her tiny shoulder.
"Mia," he said softly, his voice devoid of the lethal violence coursing through his veins. "It is time to go."
"But Mr. Damiano, I haven't finished my juice," she protested, looking up with pouty lips.
"We have better juice at home," he lied effortlessly. "And ice cream. Let's go find your mother."
He scooped her up into his left arm, holding her securely against his broad chest. His right hand casually slipped beneath his tailored jacket, resting on the cold grip of his customized 9mm pistol.
As he moved toward the side exit, the double doors at the far end of the cafeteria burst open. Two men in dark suits stepped through, their hands reaching inside their jackets.
Before the screaming could even begin, Damiano moved. He didn't panic. He was a predator in his natural habitat. He turned his body, shielding Mia entirely with his back. With lightning speed, his right hand drew his weapon.
Thwip. Thwip.
Two suppressed shots echoed like quiet coughs over the chatter of the room. The two men dropped to the floor instantly, clutching their knees, neutralized before they could even draw their weapons. The rich parents in the room froze, completely oblivious to the precision strike that had just occurred in the blink of an eye, assuming the men had simply slipped.
Damiano didn't miss a beat. He pushed through the side exit, carrying Mia into the secure alleyway where his armored SUV was waiting, engine purring. Rafael was standing by the open door, an assault rifle held low but ready.
"Are we clear?" Damiano barked, tossing Mia gently into the plush leather seat and climbing in after her.
"Clear, Boss. Our men are cleaning up the mess inside. Marchetti is going to deny it, but it was his crew."
Damiano pulled the heavy door shut, sealing them inside the bulletproof steel box. He looked down at Mia, who was completely unaware that she had just been in the crossfire of a mafia hit. She was busy playing with the diamond hair clip.
Damiano’s heart beat with a slow, furious rhythm. This child, this innocent little girl, had just been targeted because she was associated with him.
He pulled out his encrypted phone and dialed a number. Elena picked up on the first ring.
"Mr. Verrone? Is everything alright? Is Mia—"
"Pack your bags, Elena," Damiano interrupted, his voice a blade of pure steel. "You are moving out of the staff quarters. You and Mia are taking the master suite in the west wing. Do not argue with me. The contract just changed."
May you like
"Changed?" Elena gasped. "To what?"
"To a lifetime," Damiano stated, hanging up the phone. He looked at Mia, brushing a stray curl from her forehead. Nobody touched what belonged to Damiano Verrone. And heaven help the man who tried.
