Chapter 5 - The First ThreatThe peaceful atmosphere inside the estate did not extend beyond its wrought-iron gates.
At 9:00 p.m. that evening, Damian sat at his study desk, reviewing intelligence reports provided by Paul Ferrell. The Syndicate lieutenants in Milan were growing increasingly aggressive. The sudden cancellation of the noon meeting had been taken as a sign of weakness—a sign that Damian was too preoccupied with his dying mother to maintain his grip on the regional shipping ports.
“Gianna Moretti is moving her men into the eastern docks,” Paul reported, pointing to a map spread across the desk. “She thinks you’re soft, Damian. She thinks the Costa family is ripe for a takeover.”
Gianna Moretti was the ruthless leader of the rival Moretti clan—a woman who had earned her reputation by executing three of her own cousins to secure control of the Naples underworld. She was cold, ambitious, and utterly lacking in mercy.
“Let her think what she wants,” Damian said coolly, sipping his espresso. “Let her move her men onto the docks. The moment they cross the perimeter of Warehouse Four, lock the gates and eliminate them.”
“Understood,” Paul said. Then he hesitated. “There’s one more thing.”
“Speak.”
“Moretti’s intelligence network is good,” Paul warned softly. “They have eyes near our service gate. They noticed the debt settlement transfers to the city lenders this morning. They know about Tessa Miller.”
Damian’s hand froze over his espresso cup. His eyes snapped up, instantly dropping into a terrifying sub-zero register.
“What do you mean they know about her?” Damian demanded softly.
“They know a low-level employee was suddenly given a massive financial payout and moved into the east guest cottage,” Paul explained. “Moretti might assume the girl is your mistress, or a key witness in a federal investigation. Either way, she represents a potential point of leverage.”
Damian stood up slowly from his desk, his presence filling the grand room with an aura of pure, murderous intent.
“Post four extra armed guards around the guest cottage starting tonight,” Damian commanded, his voice dropping into a dangerous growl. “If anyone who does not belong to this estate steps within fifty yards of Tessa Miller, do not ask questions. Shoot them where they stand.”
“Understood, boss,” Paul bowed his head.
Damian walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows, staring out through the glass toward the small light shining in the window of the east cottage.
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Tessa Miller had come into his life to save his mother’s remaining days. She had brought warmth into a house built on blood and stone.
And Damian Costa swore to whatever God was listening that he would burn the entire city of Naples to ashes before he allowed anyone to bring harm to the girl in Room 104.
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