Chapter 9 Dual Madness

The years passed in a blur of controlled violence, calculated power moves, and surprisingly domestic moments. Marina grew from a toddler into a precocious five-year-old, her intelligence matched only by her uncanny ability to wrap everyone around her little finger—from hardened hitmen to corrupt judges.

Our empire expanded, the Moretti-Barzini alliance reshaping the criminal landscape of the city. Victor had settled into his role as the elder statesman, semi-retired but still commanding respect. Dante and I ruled with complementary styles—his cold precision balanced by my creative lethality.

But peace, even bloody peace, never lasts in our world.

It began with whispers from the West Coast, rumors of a new player entering our territory. Then shipments began disappearing, informants turned up dead, and finally, one of our most secure warehouses was hit—professionally, with no survivors.

"It's the Yakuza," Gabriel reported during our emergency meeting. "Specifically, the Inagawa-kai faction. They've formed an alliance with what remains of the Calabrese family."

Dante's expression darkened. "Antonio?"

"Released from hospital detention last week. His facial reconstruction was... extensive." Gabriel slid photographs across the table—Antonio Calabrese with a face rebuilt but still visibly scarred from my wedding day gift.

"He should have stayed in Japan," I said, studying the surveillance photos. "Coming back here is suicide."

"He's not alone," Gabriel continued. "Their advance team includes at least twenty trained enforcers, plus a specialist. Goes by 'The Surgeon.' Rumored to be former special forces, expert in both torture and combat."

Victor, who had insisted on attending despite his declining health, leaned forward. "The timing is deliberate. They're moving now because they believe we're vulnerable."

He wasn't wrong. Three days earlier, an explosion at one of our clubs had left Dante with shrapnel in his shoulder and three broken ribs. I had escaped with only minor injuries, but the attack had exposed a weakness in our security protocols.

"Where's Marina?" Dante asked, his voice tight with controlled pain despite the medication.

"At the lake house with Dr. Chen and a full security detail," I assured him. "No one knows about that location except the people in this room."

Dante nodded, then winced as the movement pulled at his injuries. "We need to end this quickly. Draw them out, finish it before they can establish a foothold."

"You're in no condition to fight," Victor pointed out. "And they'll be expecting a response."

"Then we'll give them one they won't expect." I pulled out my phone, showing them a location on the map. "The old Rothwell Tower. Abandoned, scheduled for demolition next month. Perfect place for a supposed emergency meeting of our lieutenants."

Gabriel caught on immediately. "A trap."

"Precisely," I confirmed. "We leak information about an emergency summit to regroup after the explosion. Antonio won't be able to resist hitting us while we're supposedly gathering our forces."

"It's too obvious," Victor objected. "They'll suspect a trap."

"Of course they will," Dante said, a cold smile forming despite his pain. "That's why Luna will be there as bait. If I'm injured and she's exposed, they'll believe we're desperate enough to risk a meeting."

I met his eyes across the table, understanding the unspoken strategy. "They'll think the trap is on the ground floor or the main conference rooms. They won't expect the real trap."

"Which is?" Victor demanded.

"The entire building," Dante replied. "Wired to collapse. Once we confirm Antonio and the Yakuza leadership are inside, we bring it all down."

Victor stared at us in disbelief. "You're talking about demolishing a thirty-story building in the middle of the city."

"At night, in an abandoned district, with controlled charges," I clarified. "Collateral damage will be minimal."

"And your escape plan?" Gabriel asked.

I smiled. "The roof. Helicopter extraction after we confirm the targets are in position."

The plan came together over the next forty-eight hours. Our people worked in shifts, rigging the condemned building with explosives designed to implode the structure. Meanwhile, we leaked information about our "emergency summit" through channels we knew were compromised.

On the night of the operation, I kissed Marina goodbye at the lake house, promising to return by morning. Her solemn green eyes—so like my sister's—watched me with an understanding beyond her years.

"Are you going to hurt the bad people?" she asked.

I smoothed her dark curls. "Yes, little viper. They tried to hurt us, so now we have to make sure they can't do it again."

She nodded, accepting this with the straightforward logic of a child raised in our world. "Bring me back something pretty."

"I promise," I said, tucking her in with one last kiss.

At Rothwell Tower, I positioned myself in a 28th-floor office with clear sightlines to the surrounding buildings. Dressed in tactical gear that accommodated my prosthetic's special features, I maintained radio contact with Gabriel, who was coordinating our forces from a secure location.

"Movement at the south entrance," he reported. "Two vehicles, Japanese diplomatic plates."

"That's bold," I commented. "They're not even trying to be subtle."

"Four more approaching from the east. These look like Calabrese's men."

I adjusted my position, checking the detonator I carried. "Any sign of Antonio?"

"Confirmed. He just exited the third vehicle."

Perfect. I activated the small transmitter in my ear. "Dante, they're arriving. Antonio is on site."

"Good." His voice was tight—he'd refused pain medication to keep his mind clear. "Stay in position. I'm ten minutes out."

According to our plan, Dante would arrive by helicopter once we confirmed all targets were in the building, giving the impression he was arriving for the meeting despite his injuries. In reality, he would be my extraction once we triggered the demolition.

I watched through my scope as figures moved into the building, counting teams and identifying key players where possible. "I've got visual confirmation on The Surgeon," I reported. "East stairwell, moving up."

They were being cautious, sweeping the building floor by floor. It would take them time to reach the upper levels where I waited. Time we could use.

"Gabriel, status on the charges?"

"All green. Building's ready to come down on your command."

I continued monitoring the enemy's progress through the building. "They're moving faster than expected. Already cleared the fifteenth floor."

"Dante's five minutes out," Gabriel reported. "Should we move up the timeline?"

Before I could answer, the door behind me burst open. I whirled, weapon raised, only to freeze at the sight of Antonio Calabrese standing there, flanked by two Yakuza enforcers.

"Hello, Luna," he said, the scars on his face twisting his attempt at a smile. "Missing something?"

My blood ran cold as I realized what had happened. They hadn't come up through the building—they'd somehow accessed the roof and worked their way down.

"How did you get past our roof sensors?" I demanded, mind racing through escape scenarios.

"We have friends in interesting places," Antonio replied. "Including someone who knows all about your security systems."

A betrayal. Someone in our organization had sold us out.

"Drop your weapon," he continued. "Unless you want your husband to fly into an ambush when he arrives."

I slowly lowered my gun, calculating odds and angles. Even with my prosthetic's hidden weapons, taking out three armed men before they could fire would be challenging.

"That's better," Antonio said, motioning for his men to secure me. "I've waited years for this moment. The legendary Viper, finally caught in someone else's trap."

As one of the Yakuza enforcers approached, I activated the mechanism in my prosthetic, preparing to deploy the blade. Then a new voice spoke from the doorway.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

We all turned to see a slight Japanese man in an impeccable suit—The Surgeon, I presumed—holding a tablet computer. On the screen was a live feed of Marina's bedroom at the lake house.

My heart stopped. "That's impossible. That location is secure."

"As I said," Antonio smiled coldly, "friends in interesting places. Now, shall we discuss terms? Or should I have my associate make a call to his team at the lake house?"

Rage and fear battled within me, but I forced myself to remain outwardly calm. "What do you want?"

"Simple. Control of the Moretti territories, Barzini's shipping routes, and you and Dante dead as an example to anyone who might object." He touched the scar running down his face. "You left your mark on me. Now I'll leave mine on your daughter."

The threat to Marina cleared my mind instantly. These men would die tonight, no matter what it took.

"Dante will never agree," I said, playing for time. "Even for Marina."

"We'll see. He should be landing on the roof right about... now."

I heard the distant thump of helicopter rotors, and my stomach sank. Dante was walking into a trap, Marina was in danger, and I was caught between them.

Antonio gestured to his men. "Bring her upstairs. Let's greet the mighty Reaper properly."

As they marched me toward the roof access stairs, I subtly pressed a button on my prosthetic, activating its emergency beacon. If Gabriel was monitoring, he'd know something had gone wrong.

On the roof, the helicopter was just touching down, its rotors whipping the night air into a frenzy. Dante emerged, moving stiffly from his injuries but with deadly purpose in every step. He froze when he saw me with Antonio's gun at my head.

"Welcome to our reunion, cousin," Antonio called over the noise of the helicopter. "So glad you could make it."

Dante's eyes met mine, and a world of communication passed between us in that glance. I gave him the barest nod—I was unharmed, but Marina was compromised.

"Let her go," Dante said, his voice carrying across the roof. "This is between us."

"It's between all of us now," Antonio replied. "You, me, your wife, your daughter... one big, unhappy family."

Dante took a step forward, and every gun on the roof trained on him. "If you've touched Marina—"

"Not yet," Antonio cut him off. "Her fate depends entirely on what happens in the next few minutes. You're going to surrender control of your organization, effective immediately. Public announcement, transfer of accounts, the works."

"And if I refuse?"

Antonio smiled. "Then my men at the lake house have orders to make your daughter's death very, very slow."

I watched Dante's face, seeing the calculation behind his eyes. We had contingency plans for situations like this, but none accounted for both of us being captured simultaneously.

"I need proof she's alive and unharmed," Dante demanded.

The Surgeon stepped forward with his tablet. "A live feed, as you can see. The child is sleeping peacefully... for now."

I studied the video carefully. Something about it struck me as off—the angle of the shadows, the position of Marina's stuffed animals. Then I noticed the timestamp in the corner. This wasn't live footage; it was from our own security system, recorded earlier.

They didn't have Marina. They had access to our footage, but not to her.

I caught Dante's eye again, giving him the signal we'd developed years ago for "they're bluffing." His expression didn't change, but I saw understanding flash in his eyes.

"Very well," he said, his voice resigned. "I'll do as you ask. Just don't harm her."

Antonio looked triumphant. "I knew you'd see reason. Now, kneel. Both of you."

As Dante and I slowly knelt on the rooftop, I positioned my prosthetic carefully, angling it toward Antonio. Dante was buying time, engaging Antonio in conversation about transfer details, specific accounts, protocols.

"One more thing," Antonio said, raising his gun to Dante's head. "I'm going to enjoy this part personally."

Before he could pull the trigger, I activated the final mechanism in my prosthetic—a pressurized dart loaded with a fast-acting paralytic. It hit Antonio in the neck, and he staggered backward, confusion replacing his triumph.

In the momentary distraction, Dante surged upward despite his injuries, disarming the nearest guard while I swept the legs out from under The Surgeon. The rooftop erupted into chaos as we fought with desperate intensity.

I took a bullet to the shoulder but managed to reach the detonator I'd kept concealed. With Antonio paralyzed and three of his men down, I caught Dante's eye.

"Time to go!" I shouted over the gunfire.

He nodded, fighting his way back toward the helicopter. I triggered the first set of charges, and the building shuddered beneath us. The remaining Yakuza enforcers scrambled, realizing too late what was happening.

As the structure began to collapse, Dante pulled me into the helicopter. I hit the main detonator as we lifted off, watching through the open door as Rothwell Tower imploded in a controlled cascade of destruction, taking Antonio Calabrese and his Yakuza allies with it.

"Marina?" Dante shouted over the roar of the helicopter and the collapsing building.

"They were bluffing," I confirmed, pressing a cloth to my bleeding shoulder. "That was yesterday's security footage. But we have a traitor in our organization."

His face hardened. "We'll find them. For now, let's get to the lake house."

As we flew over the city, watching the dust cloud rise from what had been Rothwell Tower, I leaned against Dante despite my injury. "We should probably discuss our tendency to solve problems by destroying entire buildings."

A smile touched his lips despite the gravity of our situation. "It's effective."

"It's excessive," I countered.

"Says the woman who just demolished a skyscraper."

"Fair point."

As the helicopter banked toward the lake house, I thought about what awaited us—a traitor to uncover, a conspiracy to unravel, and a daughter to protect. But in that moment, with Dante beside me and the knowledge that Marina was safe, I felt something close to contentment.

We were the Viper and the Reaper, after all. Heaven help anyone who thought they could take what was ours.