Chapter 3 - The Shadow Protocol
Before Dominic could curse, before I could scream, the mouth of the alley erupted into motion.
Two men stepped out from the dim amber glow of Maple Street, cutting off our only exit. They wore identical black trench coats, their faces half-hidden beneath the brims of fedoras, and in their right hands, they held silenced pistols that gleamed dully in the moonlight.
"Well, well," the lead man sneered, his voice raspy and cruel as he scanned the scene. "Look what the Boston winter dragged in. The great Caruso, bleeding out like a stuck pig in the dirt. And look... he brought company."
Dominic snarled, trying to push his battered body forward to shield me, but his broken leg collapsed beneath him, sending a fresh wave of agony across his features.
Victoria didn't blink. She didn't pull a weapon from her coat pocket. Instead, she took one slow, deliberate step forward, her heels clicking sharply against the frozen pavement.
"You're a long way from Southie, boys," Victoria said, her voice dropping into a calm, conversational tone that somehow sounded more threatening than a raised gun. "Did your boss really think sending low-level clean-up crew would finish what a roadside ambush couldn't?"
The lead assassin narrowed his eyes, shifting his grip on the silenced pistol. "Step aside, lady. This is family business. Caruso’s debts have finally come due, and anyone standing in the way gets wiped off the ledger."
"Family business," Victoria repeated, a cold, humorless smile touching her lips. "Is that what you call slaughtering an innocent woman in her own kitchen two years ago? Is that what you call leaving a trail of bodies across three states just to break a man’s empire?"
Dominic froze. His head snapped toward Victoria, his dark eyes wide with sudden, terrifying comprehension. 🎭
"Victoria... what are you talking about?" Dominic rasped, his voice shaking. "You said Catherine’s death was a professional hit by the Marcone syndicate. You said it was war."
"War has rules, Dominic," Victoria replied without looking back at him. "Assassinations have targets. But what happened to your wife wasn't a hit... it was a message. A message sent by the people sitting at the very top of the financial board—the ones you've been protecting with your loyalty."
The lead assassin raised his pistol, aiming squarely at Victoria’s chest. "Talk’s over, bitch. End of the line."
He squeezed the trigger.
The suppressed shot sounded like a sharp cough in the confined alleyway. But before the bullet could travel its distance, Victoria moved with terrifying, unnatural speed. She sidestepped with fluid grace, drawing a heavy, custom-engraved Sig Sauer from a hidden holster beneath her wool coat, and fired twice.
Clack-clack.
Both men dropped instantly, their bodies hitting the concrete with heavy, lifeless thuds.
Silence rushed back into the alley, heavier and more suffocating than before.
I clamped both hands over my mouth, my seven-year-old brain short-circuiting as I stared at the two motionless figures lying just feet away. I had never seen a gun fired. I had never seen someone die.
Victoria slipped her weapon back into its holster, smoothing the front of her coat as if she had just stepped out of an upscale café rather than a double homicide. She turned around slowly, looking down at Dominic, who was staring up at her with a mixture of horror, betrayal, and unspeakable grief.
"You knew," Dominic whispered, his voice breaking entirely. "From the very beginning... you knew who killed Catherine."
"I knew," Victoria confirmed softly. "And I knew that the moment you found out, you would tear this city apart, destroying yourself and everyone tied to you in the process. Including her."
She pointed a gloved finger directly at me.
I shrank back against the brick wall, trembling from head to toe, the cold biting deep into my bones.
"She's a child," Dominic roared, his voice cracking with fury as he tried to drag himself toward me. "Leave her out of this!"
"I am leaving her out of this," Victoria said firmly, walking over and kneeling down right beside me. She reached out, her touch surprisingly gentle as she pulled my trembling hands away from my face. "Which is why we are getting out of here now. Because the moment those men fail to check in with their commander, a clean-up squad ten times larger will sweep this entire neighborhood."
She looked deep into my eyes, her gaze softening. "Are you brave, Lily? Can you keep a secret that could save your life?"
I couldn't speak. I could only nod slowly, tears freezing on my cheeks.
Victoria stood up, looking back down at Dominic. "Well, Caruso? Are you going to lie in the dirt and bleed out like a coward, or are you going to stand up and protect your daughter's only witness?"
Dominic stopped struggling. He froze, the word hanging in the frigid Boston air like a physical blow.
Daughter.
He stared at me—really stared at me—not as a random kid who had wandered into an alley, but with a terrifying, overwhelming wave of recognition. The dark hair, the shape of the eyes, the stubborn refusal to run away when things got dangerous.
Catherine’s eyes.
A choked, guttural sound escaped Dominic’s throat. A sound that was half-laugh, half-sob.
May you like
He didn't die in that alley.
With a roar of pure, unadulterated willpower, Dominic Caruso pushed himself up off the blood-soaked brick wall, pressing his hand against his bleeding stomach, and took his very first step toward me.
