Gunfire tore through the night.
Adrian yanked Isabella behind the old brick wall as more bullets peppered the church. The stained glass windows were already gone; now even the pews were catching fire. Shadows moved fast between headstones and trees—professional, methodical, military-grade.
"They sent a kill team," Isabella gasped. "Not guards. Not thugs. This is sanctioned."
Adrian's jaw tightened. "Of course it is. The Don doesn't send warnings—he sends conclusions."
A flash grenade landed two feet from them.
"Down!" Adrian shoved her, body covering hers as white light exploded.
Silence. Deafening.
His ears rang. Blood trickled from one.
But through the haze, he saw something—or someone—walking straight through the smoke.
A man in all black. Calm. Controlled. Holding no weapon, only a leather briefcase.
Adrian's vision sharpened just as the man spoke:
"Hello, Adrian. Your father sends his regards."
Isabella froze.
"That voice," she whispered.
The man removed his glasses.
Adrian's stomach dropped.
"Dante?"
The consigliere. His father's oldest advisor. A man who once taught Adrian how to dismantle a gun blindfolded when he was ten.
"I told him you were too clever to die in the vault," Dante said. "So now, he's changed the mission."
"And what's the new mission?" Adrian growled.
Dante opened the briefcase.
Inside: a contract. Blood-sealed. Signed by every Don on the East Coast.
Except one.
Adrian Morello.
"Erasure wasn't the only plan," Dante said. "If we can't kill you quietly… we'll bury you in legacy instead. A new bloodline. One you can't control."
He tossed something else out of the case.
A sonogram photo.
Isabella stared at it, then at Dante. "What is that?"
"Insurance," Dante said.
Adrian's mind reeled. "That's not possible. We—she's not—"
Isabella backed away, eyes wide, horrified. "What the hell is going on?"
But there wasn't time to unpack it.
Dante snapped his fingers. From the SUV, two more men approached with body bags. Empty. Labeled with their names.
"Walk away, Adrian," Dante said. "Sign the contract. Return to the family. Or we end it right here."
Adrian's hands shook—but not from fear.
From fury.
He slowly unholstered his gun. "You tell my father… if he wants a war, I'll give him one."
BANG.
He shot out the headlights of the SUV, plunging the graveyard into darkness.
In the confusion, he grabbed Isabella and sprinted. They vanished into the trees just as automatic rifles lit up the night.
Meanwhile — Morello Estate
Don Morello stood in his office, staring at a portrait of Julian.
He touched the glass.
"You always thought legacy was about truth," he murmured. "But truth is a currency too dangerous for our world."
He turned to a man in the shadows.
Marco Romano.
"I gave them a chance to die clean," the Don said. "Now… we bury them with the rest of the rebels."
Back in the Woods
Adrian and Isabella collapsed under a fallen tree, breathless, muddy, cold.
"I don't understand," she said. "A sonogram? A fake pregnancy? What are they trying to do?"
Adrian's eyes were on the contract page he'd stolen from the briefcase before they fled.
There—scrawled in blood next to his father's name—was a signature he hadn't expected.
Julian Morello.
"He signed this," Adrian whispered. "Before he died."
"Why?"
Adrian looked up at her.
"Because he thought this contract would protect us."
A low rumble echoed in the distance.
Helicopters.
They were running out of time.