Chapter 47
The docks were shrouded in fog and silence, the faint sound of waves lapping against the piers masking the quiet preparations happening in the shadows. Cargo crates were stacked in tall rows, creating a maze of steel and wood, perfect for ambush points and concealed movements. Hidden among the shadows were Marco’s men—gunmen positioned strategically on the rooftops, behind machinery, and inside shipping containers.
Carmen stood at the far edge of the loading area, her coat pulled tightly around her against the bite of the early morning chill. Luca stood beside her, his sharp eyes scanning the fog-covered expanse. “They’ll be here soon.”
Carmen nodded, her expression unreadable, though tension rippled through every muscle in her body. “They think this place is empty.”
“They won’t think that for long,” Luca muttered, cocking his gun.
A soft buzz came from Carmen’s earpiece, Marco’s low voice crackling over the line. “Positions confirmed. Everyone stays quiet until my signal.”
“Understood,” Carmen replied, pressing a finger to the device. She turned to Luca, her voice steady. “Make sure our men know. No one moves until the trap is set.”
Luca nodded and slipped back into the shadows, leaving Carmen alone as she steadied her breath. Across the yard, Marco was somewhere in position, waiting. The two of them were separated by only distance now, their plans united, their focus singular: end Arianna’s games tonight.
Moments later, headlights cut through the fog—low, predatory beams that signaled the arrival of Arianna’s forces. Carmen moved quickly, ducking behind a stack of crates as black SUVs rolled onto the dock, their engines rumbling like growling beasts. Doors opened in unison, and men poured out—armed and confident.
At the center of it all, Emilio Bianchi stepped from the lead vehicle, his imposing figure unmistakable even from afar. Behind him, Arianna appeared, her sharp heels clicking against the concrete as she strode confidently toward the center of the shipping yard. She looked every bit the queen orchestrating a victory she already believed was hers.
“Spread out,” Emilio barked, his voice booming as his men fanned out across the area. “Find the crates and clear the yard. Move!”
Carmen pressed her back against the crate, her pulse quickening as the sound of boots thudded across the ground. Through her earpiece, Marco’s voice came through, steady and cold. “Wait… wait…”
She could see Emilio’s men moving closer now, oblivious to the trap tightening around them. Arianna remained at the center, arms folded as she surveyed the scene with a small, satisfied smile.
Then Marco’s voice came over the line. “Now.”
A single gunshot rang out, sharp and loud, breaking the silence like a thunderclap. The first of Emilio’s men dropped before they even realized what had happened. Gunfire erupted from the rooftops, from behind machinery, and from the shadows where Marco’s men had lain in wait.
The ambush had begun.
Chaos erupted as Emilio’s mercenaries scrambled for cover, shouting orders as bullets tore through the air. Carmen stepped out from her position, pulling her handgun and firing clean shots at two men who tried to move toward the trucks. She ducked quickly behind another crate as gunfire peppered the area where she’d stood just seconds before.
Through the chaos, she could see Marco across the yard, emerging from the shadows with his men flanking him. His gun was in his hand, his movements precise as he cut through the mercenaries in his path. For the first time in weeks, Carmen saw him as he once was—focused, commanding, relentless.
The Venetti forces pushed hard, pinning Emilio’s men down as they struggled to regroup. Arianna, still standing near the center, looked furious, her confidence slipping as she shouted at Emilio to rally his forces.
“They’re everywhere!” one of Emilio’s men yelled, ducking behind a truck as gunfire rattled against the steel.
“Hold the line!” Emilio roared, his own weapon blazing as he fired toward the rooftops.
Carmen moved quickly, weaving through the chaos and shouting orders to the men closest to her. “Push them back! Don’t let them regroup!”
For a while, the Venetti forces had the upper hand. The mercenaries were scattered, pinned down by the coordinated assault. But Emilio adapted quickly, barking sharp orders that turned the chaos into a counterattack. His personal guards—larger, better armed, and ruthless—began pushing back against Carmen’s men, their heavy gunfire forcing the Venettis to retreat from the more open areas of the yard.
It was then that Carmen saw them—Emilio’s guards moving toward her position, their eyes locked on her like wolves tracking prey. She knew instantly that she was their target.
“Luca, they’re coming for me!” she shouted into her earpiece, ducking behind cover as bullets slammed into the crates around her.
“I’m on it!” Luca’s voice crackled back, but Carmen could hear the strain in his tone—he was pinned down on the far side of the yard.
The guards were closing in, relentless and methodical. Carmen fired at them, taking down one before ducking again, but the others kept coming. She scrambled to reload, her hands steady despite the panic rising in her chest.
Not now. Not when we’re so close.
Just as one of the guards rounded the corner, Carmen kicked out hard, catching him in the knee. He stumbled, and she fired a shot point-blank that sent him sprawling. But two more stepped forward, their guns raised.
Carmen’s heart thundered in her chest as she backed against the crate, out of options.
A sharp burst of gunfire split the air, and one of the guards dropped instantly. Carmen’s eyes darted up just as Marco appeared, his gun still smoking, his expression dark with fury.
“Marco—”
“Stay down!” he barked, stepping in front of her as he fired at the remaining guard. The man fell, and Marco immediately turned, grabbing Carmen’s arm. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” she said quickly, though her breathing was ragged. “I’m fine.”
Marco didn’t release her, his eyes scanning her face with something that almost looked like relief. “You shouldn’t have been here. They were hunting you.”
“I can handle myself,” Carmen shot back, though her voice was softer this time.
Marco’s jaw tightened, his voice low but fierce. “Not when it’s you they want dead.”
He turned, pulling her with him as they moved back toward cover. Around them, the battle still raged, but the Venetti forces were pressing their advantage once again. Marco’s men had regrouped, and Emilio’s mercenaries were starting to fall back.
From somewhere deeper in the yard, Marco heard Arianna’s voice, her furious scream cutting through the noise. “Emilio! Pull them back!”
Marco’s gaze flickered toward the sound, his grip on Carmen tightening. “She’s running.”
“She won’t get far,” Carmen replied, steadying herself. “We’re not done yet.”
For a moment, Marco looked at her, his expression unreadable. Then he nodded. “Let’s finish this.”
The two of them moved back into the fray, side by side. For all their broken trust and lingering hurt, they were a united front now, their focus singular: stop Arianna and bring an end to the war she had started.
The battle wasn’t over, but the tide had turned. And together, Carmen and Marco were ready to finish what she had begun.
