Chapter 7
The revelation hit Richard like a physical blow. Sarah—the gentle, quiet girl his younger son Dominic had loved—was alive. For three long years, while Mark and Claudia lived in luxury at the main lodge, Noah's real mother had been surviving in the frozen wilderness on the northern ridge, watching her son from afar, unable to step into the light out of fear that Mark would finish the job.
Richard stood up from the table so violently that his chair crashed backward onto the floor.
"Frank! Get the vehicles!" Richard roared, his voice shaking the small wooden cabin.
"Boss, the blizzard is turning into a Category 4 whiteout!" Frank warned, looking out the window where the wind was now howling at sixty miles per hour, completely obscuring the lake. "If we try to climb the northern ridge in this weather, we could drive right off the cliff side!"
"I don't care if the mountain collapses!" Richard yelled, grabbing his coat. "My daughter-in-law is freezing on that ridge!"
Before they could step out of the cabin, the high-pitched whine of multiple snowmobile engines echoed through the storm outside.
Frank rushed to the window, his face darkening instantly. "Boss! We’ve got company! Four snowmobiles... armed men!"
Richard pulled his weapon, stepping back into the shadows of the cabin doorway. Through the blinding curtain of white snow, four figures dressed in heavy winter tactical gear dismounted their vehicles, drawing automatic shotguns.
"Bellacorte!" a harsh voice yelled over the roar of the wind. "We know you're in there! Drop your weapons and step out!"
Richard recognized the voice immediately. It was Mark’s head security officer from his private Chicago firm—a mercenary named Keller whom Mark had hired six months ago.
"Mark’s men," Frank whispered, raising his rifle. "They must have broken out of the lodge cellar or had a secondary team waiting on standby."
"Mark didn't break out," Richard said coldly, calculating the tactical angles of the room. "Mark gave Keller orders to kill anyone who tried to reach Clara tonight."
Keller’s men began advancing toward the cabin, their boots crunching loudly in the deep snow.
"On my mark," Richard whispered to Frank. "Take the two on the left. I'll take the lead."
Richard didn't wait for Keller to reach the porch. He kicked open the cabin's wooden window shutter and fired three rapid, suppressed shots into the storm. The lead mercenary crumpled into the snow bank instantly.
Frank opened fire from the main door, his rifle barking twice, dropping a second attacker near the snowmobiles.
The remaining two mercenaries scattered behind the thick pine trunks, returning blind fire that shattered the cabin's glass windows, sending wooden splinters flying through the air.
"Cover me!" Richard ordered.
Without waiting for Frank's response, Richard stepped out onto the open porch into the freezing wind. His three-piece dark suit was instantly covered in swirling white snow, but his movement was fluid, lethal, and completely fearless. He fired two precise rounds through the trees, hitting the third mercenary cleanly through the shoulder.
Keller, realizing his team was completely outmatched by the veteran mafia boss, turned and sprinted toward his snowmobile, frantically trying to start the engine.
Richard strode through the deep snow like a relentless specter, catching up to the snowmobile in seconds. He grabbed Keller by the back of his tactical helmet and violently slammed him off the machine, throwing him face-first into the icy drift.
Richard planted his heavy leather boot onto Keller’s chest, aiming his pistol directly between the man's eyes.
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"Where is Mark?" Richard demanded over the roaring wind.
Keller coughed, blood staining the white snow near his mouth. "He... he took a squad to the northern ridge! He realized you were coming for Clara! He’s going to eliminate Sarah before you reach her!"
