Chapter 5 - THE MEETING AT THE DOCKS
By two o'clock that afternoon, the fog over Boston Harbor had turned into a steady, freezing drizzle.
A convoy of three black armored SUVs rolled down the commercial access road of the South Boston Industrial Park, stopping outside a massive, rusted shipping warehouse bearing the faded logo of Romano Freight & Logistics.
The warehouse was Victor’s stronghold on the waterfront—a place where legitimate cargo containers shared floor space with private armories, secure communications gear, and forty heavily armed guards loyal only to the Romano name.
Dora stepped out of the middle SUV, flanked by Lev and two tactical guards carrying suppressed submachine guns beneath their heavy coats. She wore the dark wool coat Victor had bought her, her hair tied back, her chin held high despite the chill wind.
Inside the warehouse, sixty men were gathered around a makeshift staging area illuminated by hanging industrial lamps. These were Victor’s captains—the men who controlled the docks, the union halls, the construction crews, and the night routes across three states.
When Victor entered the warehouse, every conversation died instantly. The men stood up straight, their eyes tracking their leader with absolute discipline.
Victor walked onto a raised steel platform, holding out a hand to guide Dora up beside him.
The captains looked at her. Some recognized her face from the morning papers; others knew her as the girl from South Boston who had stitched their boss’s side in a diner backroom. None of them looked at her with contempt.
“Listen to me,” Victor’s voice boomed through the high steel rafters, echoing off the iron shipping containers. “Victor Moreau thinks he can murder my people, intimidate our contractors, and target those under my personal protection.”
He placed a heavy, protective hand on Dora’s shoulder.
“He thought he could use Miss Hayes to bring us to our knees. He thought she was just a waitress he could discard when he was finished.”
Victor looked around the room, his voice turning into thunder.
“Show him what happens when he touches what belongs to this house!”
A roar went up from the sixty men—a deep, guttural sound of iron, blood, and loyalty that shook the dust from the steel beams above.
Dora looked out over the sea of hardened faces, feeling the cold fear that had trailed her all morning slowly dissolve, replaced by something fierce, hot, and ancient.
She wasn't prey anymore. She was standing beside the apex predator.
Victor turned to her, his hand sliding up from her shoulder to brush gently against her jawline.
“Are you ready, Dora?” he asked softly.
May you like
“For what?”
“To take back your city.”
