Chapter 130
Daphne POV
The sound of gunfire echoes like thunder in the warehouse.
I don't flinch. I keep moving. Duck, aim, shoot.
The air stinks of metal and smoke. The staccato bursts of semi-automatics rattle through the rafters. Men scream. Glass shatters. Someone's radio cuts out with a burst of static.
Bodies drop like flies.
Another one lunges from behind a crate. I whirl, squeeze the trigger. He falls mid-step, dead before he hits the floor.
I reload in three seconds flat. Clip. Slide. Ready.
Some asshole leaked Raffaele's location.
Word on the street was vague, but clear enough: a Castellano without backup, spotted in the outskirts.
To the desperate dogs trying to make a name for themselves, it was an open invitation.
To me? It was a death warrant I had no intention of letting be fulfilled.
Raffaele is smart, careful. He never travels alone. But someone, somewhere, knew just enough about our movements to make this ambush possible.
