The midnight air at Pier 14 smelled of salt, rust, and rotting wood.

An abandoned meatpacking plant sat at the edge of the abandoned pier, its rusted iron roof looming against the foggy night sky like a decaying leviathan.

Damian’s black Maybach rolled slowly onto the cracked concrete apron, its headlights cutting through the thick layer of river fog. Inside the car sat Damian, wearing a dark tactical coat over his vest, and Harper, her hand gripping the small pistol hidden inside her coat pocket.

Standing fifty yards away near the entrance of the building stood Dominic Moretti, surrounded by eight heavily armed mercenaries carrying tactical rifles. Standing tied to a wooden chair in the center of the lit doorway was Lily, her face tear-streaked and terrified, a gag tied around her mouth.

"Stay in the car until I give the signal," Damian told Harper, his voice dropping into a low, terrifying growl. "When the shooting starts, get behind the armored doors."

"Damian," Harper whispered, grabbing his sleeve. "Be careful."

Damian looked at her, offering a dark, lethal smile. "I'm always careful, sweetheart."

He stepped out of the vehicle carrying a thick leather envelope containing the signed terminal deeds. He walked alone into the middle of the desolate apron, his tall frame framed by the glare of the Maybach’s headlights.

"Croft!" Dominic yelled, stepping forward with a heavy shotgun held across his chest. "You actually came alone! I didn't think you had the guts!"

"Where are your manners, Dominic?" Damian replied smoothly, stopping twenty feet from the group. "I brought the papers. Release the girl."

Dominic laughed, a cruel, harsh sound. "Hand over the envelope first!"

Damian tossed the heavy leather envelope onto the wet concrete between them. "Inspect them yourself."

Dominic gestured to one of his mercenaries, who stepped forward, picked up the envelope, and opened it under a flashlight. "They're legitimate, boss! Signed by Croft and the board of directors!"

Dominic's grin widened into a disgusting, greedy mask. He raised his shotgun, pointing it directly at Damian's chest.

"Good!" Dominic sneered. "Now for the second part of the deal. I'm taking the terminals, and I'm taking your head. The Moretti family takes back Brooklyn tonight!"

"You always were incompetent, Dominic," Damian said softly. "You forgot to check the roof."

Dominic blinked. "What—?"

CRACK.

A high-powered sniper rifle shot echoed across the river from a nearby crane.

Dominic's chief mercenary dropped instantly, a bullet hole through his chest.

Before the remaining mercenaries could react, red laser sights bloomed across their jackets from the surrounding shadows.

Damian drew his pistol in a fraction of a second, firing four precise shots. Three mercenaries dropped before they could raise their weapons.

Muzzle flashes strobed through the fog like lightning. The quiet pier erupted into a terrifying warzone of automatic gunfire, shouting men, and shattering glass.

Harper didn't hesitate.

She threw open the Maybach's door, staying low to the ground, and sprinted toward the doorway where Lily was tied to the chair.

"Harper!" Lily shrieked through her gag.

"I'm here, Lily! I'm here!" Harper cried, pulling a small pocket knife from her coat and slicing franticly through the heavy ropes binding her sister's wrists and ankles.

Behind them, gunfire roared. Dominic Moretti, bleeding from a shoulder wound, staggered back toward the meatpacking building, raising his heavy shotgun directly at Harper's back.

"You bitch!" Dominic roared.

Harper turned around, saw the barrel of the shotgun pointed at her face, and froze in terror.

BANG.

A shot rang out, but it didn't come from Dominic's weapon.

Damian appeared out of the fog like a vengeful shadow, slamming into Dominic with brutal force. He tackled the mobster through the wooden doorframe of the facility, sending both men crashing onto the hard concrete floor inside.

Harper helped Lily stand, supporting her sister's weight as they shuffled into the safety of an alcove behind an armored pillar.

Inside the facility, Damian and Dominic were locked in a violent, desperate struggle. Dominic swung a heavy iron pipe, striking Damian across the ribs. Damian grunted, blood spilling from his split lip, but he didn't slow down. He caught Dominic's arm, twisted it until the bone snapped with a sickening CRUNCH, and slammed the mobster face-first into a steel support beam.

Dominic fell to his knees, coughing blood, begging for mercy. "Croft… please… don't…"

Damian stood over him, breathing heavily, his dark eyes filled with absolute, merciless fury.

"You laid hands on her family," Damian whispered coldly, raising his weapon. "That was your last mistake."

A single shot ended the Moretti family's claim to New York forever.

Damian engaged the safety on his weapon, slid it into his holster, and wiped the blood from his lip with the back of his hand.

He turned toward the alcove where Harper was holding her sobbing sister tightly in her arms.

As the smoke cleared and the sound of distant police sirens began to wail across the water, Damian walked over to them, kneeling beside Harper.

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Harper looked at him—at the blood on his face, the tears in his clothes, and the fierce, unyielding love shining in his winter-grey eyes.

Without a word, she reached out, pulled his face toward hers, and kissed him deeply, right there amidst the ruins of Pier 14.