Chapter 12 - The Phoenix and the RoseThe underground war escalated by Wednesday night.
Victor Costa, realizing that his silent assassination attempts and bribes were failing to pierce the Rossi defenses, made a desperate, reckless move. His enforcers attempted an armed hit on one of the family’s primary financial assets in Manhattan—a luxury shipping warehouse down by the docks.
I watched from the security monitor room on the estate’s ground floor as Dominic coordinated the counter-offensive with chilling, calculated precision.
He didn't panic. He sat in a leather armchair, speaking quietly into a secure comms-link while Enzo and his tactical units systematically dismantled Costa’s strike team within twenty minutes.
When the dust settled, Dominic walked into the monitor room, unbuttoning his vest, looking tired but entirely unblemished.
“Is it over?” I asked quietly, standing up from my chair.
“For tonight, yes,” Dominic said, walking over and pouring a glass of water. He paused, looking at me with an unreadable expression. “You aren't shaking.”
I looked down at my hands. They were steady. The terror of the Aster Crown shooting had finally burned away, replaced by something cold and resilient.
“I’m done shaking, Dominic,” I said, meeting his gaze directly. “If Costa thinks he can keep treating my life like collateral damage in a turf war, he’s gravely mistaken.”
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Dominic’s lips curved into a faint, approving smile—the first genuine smile I had ever seen on his face. He set the glass down and stepped closer.
“Good,” he murmured softly. “Because tomorrow, we take the fight to his front door.”
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