Page 6 of Ruined By the Mafia Kings
An hour into the proceedings, as the discussion turned to disputed territories along the riverfront, Anders felt a slight shift in the room’s atmosphere. A subtle tension in the security personnel positioned along the walls, a barely perceptible increase in radio chatter among the earpieces worn by Vitale’s men.
Anders caught Wyatt’s eye, a microsecond of communication that needed no words. Something was wrong. The enforcer had already shifted his weight imperceptibly, hand drifting closer to his concealed weapon.
Conall, attuned to the sudden alertness of his partners, smoothly redirected his attention to the door while maintaining his engagement in the conversation about shipping rights.
A security officer slipped into the room, approaching Stefano and whispering urgently in his ear. The Vitale leader’s expression remained impassive, but Anders noted the slight widening of his eyes, the almost imperceptible tightening of his jaw.
“Gentlemen,” Stefano said, interrupting Enzo mid-sentence, “I suggest a brief recess. Thirty minutes.”
The abrupt proposal sent a ripple of tension through the room. Summits operated on strictly negotiated timetables; unscheduled breaks were unheard of.
Marco exchanged a quick glance with his brother, then stood. “I second the motion. Some fresh air would be welcome.”
Anders rose to his feet in a fluid motion, Conall and Wyatt following suit. “A wise suggestion,” he agreed, his tone revealing nothing of his suspicion.
As the various factions began to disperse, Anders led his trinity toward a side exit rather than the main doors. Years of survival had taught them to trust their instincts, and right now, every instinct screamed danger.
They had just reached the service corridor when Matteo Romano appeared beside them.
“Knight,” he said, his voice low and urgent. “This isn’t random. We’ve received intelligence?—”
The first explosion rocked the building before he could finish, the concussive force shattering windows and sending tremors through the floor. Screams and shouts erupted, followed by the unmistakable sound of automatic weapons fire.
“Ambush,” Wyatt stated flatly. “East exit.”
“No,” Matteo countered, his own weapon appearing in his hand. “They’ve covered all standard exits. Follow me.”
Anders hesitated only a fraction of a second before nodding. The Vitale Brotherhood’s security protocols were legendary; if anyone knew a safe route out, it would be them.
The four men moved swiftly through the service corridors. Anders took point alongside Matteo, Wyatt covered the rear, and Conall maintained communication with their security team through a concealed earpiece.
“Davidson’s not responding,” Conall reported, his voice tight. “Neither is the advance team.”
A second explosion, closer this time, sent dust raining from the ceiling. The lights flickered, then stabilized.
Wyatt positioned himself at the rear, eyes constantly scanning for threats. He communicated his findings withgestures rather than words, conserving energy for the moment action would be required.
“Who?” Anders demanded, checking the next intersection before proceeding.
“Unknown,” Matteo replied, his expression grim. “Professional. Coordinated. Multiple points of attack.”
They reached a service exit that led to the hotel’s loading dock. Matteo pushed the door open cautiously, scanning the area before signaling the all clear.
Their backup vehicles, a nondescript SUV maintained for emergencies, should have been waiting. The empty loading dock told its own story.
“They knew the contingency plans,” Anders said, his voice ice-cold with controlled fury. “We have a leak.”
Conall tapped his earpiece. “Trying secondary channels. Nothing.”
The distant wail of sirens indicated that law enforcement was responding to the attack, adding another layer of complication. While both syndicates maintained several police officials on their payroll, a public incident of this magnitude would draw federal attention.
“Move,” Wyatt urged, already scanning for alternative transportation.
Matteo nodded once, his mind racing through options and scenarios. “The maintenance tunnel. It connects to the subway system.”
They had just started toward the access point when a third explosion erupted. The force of the blast threw them forward as concrete and steel rained down. Anders was thrown forward by the blast, a piece of debris striking his torso with enough force to drive the air from his lungs. The combination of impact, smoke, and shock sent him spiraling into darkness. His last conscious thought was of his brothers-in-arms falling beside him.
Pain. White light. Beeping.
