Chapter 8
The war room hummed with sudden, violent energy as the Capos began making calls on encrypted lines. The transition from a birthday celebration to a military operation was seamless, a testament to the discipline Rafael had drilled into his organization over two decades.
"Boss," another Capo interrupted, holding a ringing secure phone out. "It's Valeria's husband, Leo. He is demanding to speak with you."
Rafael took the phone. He didn't speak immediately, letting the silence stretch and amplify the tension.
"Castellano," Leo’s voice crackled through the speaker, thick with forced bravado. "Where is Valeria? She missed her check-in. If you touched her—"
"Valeria is currently indisposed," Rafael interrupted smoothly, his voice a low, lethal hum. "She is no longer welcome in this city. She will not be returning your calls."
There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. "You have declared war on the southern faction, Rafael. You just signed your own death warrant."
"I have eradicated a parasite," Rafael corrected coldly. "And if you wish to share her fate, you will send your men to my gates tonight. I welcome the opportunity to clean house."
He ended the call without waiting for a response and tossed the phone onto the table.
"Leo will rally his loyalists," Silas noted, tracking the movements on the monitors. "They control the southern districts. They can muster at least two hundred armed men by midnight."
"Let them," Rafael said, walking toward the heavy steel gun cabinet resting against the concrete wall. "They are angry, disorganized, and leaderless. They will rush the estate expecting to overwhelm us with numbers."
He opened the cabinet, retrieving a suppressed, heavy-caliber tactical pistol. He checked the action with practiced, mechanical efficiency, the metallic clack echoing loudly in the quiet room.
"We are not going to sit behind these walls and wait for them to breach," Rafael announced, turning back to his Capos. "I want three assault teams ready in ten minutes. We are hitting the southern compound before they can even organize their strike force."
A dark, violent excitement rippled through the men. It was an audacious, incredibly dangerous plan, but it was exactly the kind of ruthless strategy that had made Rafael the most feared boss in the city.
"I'll prepare the vehicles, Boss," Silas said, a grim smile forming. "We'll run dark. They won't see us coming until we are kicking in their front door."
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"Ensure the estate remains heavily guarded," Rafael reminded them, his priority never shifting. "Amelia’s safety is absolute. If a single hostile makes it onto this grass, I will hold you all personally responsible."
"Understood," the men chorused, filing out of the room to execute their deadly orders.
