The rain in Milan didn't wash away the filth; it just made the blood run thinner.
Dante Moretti leaned against the cold brick of the alleyway, the glowing cherry of his cigarette the only light in the dark. He checked his watch. 11:45 PM. The Cavallo motorcade would be passing through this intersection in exactly two minutes.
"You ready?" he hissed into his comms.
"Ready, Boss," his second-in-command, Marco, replied. "The C4 is set. As soon as the lead car hits the mark, they're fucked."
Dante dropped the cigarette and crushed it under his boot. Lorenzo Cavallo had taken his brother's life. Tonight, Dante would take Lorenzo's head.
BOOM.
The explosion rocked the street. The lead SUV flipped, a ball of orange fire lighting up the rain. The black limousine in the middle slammed on its brakes, skidding sideways.
"Move!" Dante screamed.
He sprinted toward the limo, his AR-15 leveled. He didn't care about the bodyguards screaming in the street. He wanted the man in the back seat. He reached the car, smashed the butt of his rifle into the glass, and ripped the door open.
"Get out, you piece of—"
Dante froze.
It wasn't Lorenzo.
In the back seat, trembling but with eyes as sharp as glass, sat a woman. Her dark hair was spilled over a white silk dress, and her skin looked like cream against the black leather.
"Where is he?" Dante growled, grabbing her by the throat and pulling her toward him.
"Go to hell," Sienna Cavallo spat.
Dante's grip tightened. He felt her pulse racing against his palm. She was terrifyingly beautiful, and she was the daughter of the man he hated most. A slow, wicked grin spread across his face.
"Change of plans," Dante muttered, his voice dropping to a dark, possessive silk. "Your father killed my brother. I think it's only fair I take his most precious thing in return."
"Touch me and he'll kill you," she gasped, her eyes defiant.
Dante leaned in, his lips brushing her ear. "Let him try. But from this second on, Sienna... you belong to me. You don't breathe unless I tell you to. You don't scream unless I'm the one making you."
He threw her over his shoulder as the sirens began to wail in the distance. The war had just started, and it was going to be a lot filthier than he imagined.