Our campaign against Alban Berisha’s network in New York and Chicago has escalated. Sergio—Mischa Pavlov’s trusted enforcer—had gone deep undercover within the Albanian ranks. When his cover was blown, they seized him, subjecting him to brutal torture in a desperate attempt to pry secrets about the Chicago Bratva.
They failed. Sergio never broke. Mischa tracked him down and launched a rescue mission, pulling him out before the bastards could finish what they started.
Sergio can no longer provide us with inside information on their daily movements. But he is still an invaluable asset. The knowledge he has obtained from living among them and from being a part of the Albanian organization has been advantageous.
In just two years, Sergio had carved out a place for himself, rising through the Albanian ranks to become a trusted insider. His escape dealt them a serious blow — he left carrying knowledge of their inner workings and future plans.
Thanks to his intel, we’ve intercepted several of their shipments over the past three months. Sergio identified most of their entry points into New York and Chicago, giving us the advantage.
I’m sickened by the business that Alban has brought into my territory. The memory of our first rescue haunts me still.I’ve killed in my line of work, but I draw the line at targeting innocent women and children.
The horrors of what we encountered on opening the first set of containers were unforgettable. Women and girls, as young as twelve years old were huddled inside the shipping containers. In the stifling heat. People being sold as merchandise. It broke my heart. Seeing fear and confusion in their eyes. Many of them battered and drugged. As they cowered, it was obvious that they’d given up on any hope of being rescued. Not all of them spoke English. They were taken from all over Europe and trafficked here where they were going to be sold.
My disgust at what they had gone through, at the hands of those fucking monsters filled me with rage. We provided the poor souls with medical care and shelter. Some were snatched from their families and wanted to return home. Once they were well enough, we facilitated this.
Others were sold into slavery by their own families. The same people who were supposed to provide protection from these monsters. We were able to set up shelters. A place where they would have refuge. This was done with the help of Elle and Serafina. They now have access to medical and psychological help. When they’re ready to go back out into the world, we help them find jobs.
Pavlov has also made similar arrangements for the poor souls he has rescued in Chicago. I take pleasure in systematically destroying Alban Berisha’s business. His clients are calling for his head. He is unable to provide the merchandise that they paid him for. The degenerates want him to deliver what he promised them. Our job is to ensure his inability to deliver.
We’ve forced him into a corner. I recognize that an exercise in caution on our part would be wise. In my experience, when a snake is cornered, it will eventually strike. And its bitecan be deadly. Alban Berisha may feel that he has nothing more to lose and this is what makes him dangerous.
Chapter 35
~Elle~
My husband is like a chameleon, shifting seamlessly between many personas. In the months we’ve been together, I’ve witnessed them all. At times it’s hard to reconcile these different sides, yet they are what make him whole. The ruthless killer who won’t hesitate to take a life to protect his loved ones and the Cosa Nostra. The Don who rules with fairness, commands respect and shows no mercy to betrayal. The man who refuses to tolerate harm against women or children. And the devoted husband who will do anything to shield his wife. I’ve come to accept that Dominic is a product of his world—and I love him, no matter the life he leads.
This isn’t the life I once imagined for myself, yet I’ve found purpose again. Helping the women and children Dominic rescued has given me focus and meaning. My husband offered one of his Brooklyn properties to be converted into a shelter and with Serafina’s help, we prepared it for use. I reached out to a few former classmates in New York, and they offered their help
Since the attack on the mansion, Dominic has eased his grip, allowing me some freedom to leave. The catch is that I’m never alone—he insists on accompanying me, flanked by a team of bodyguards he’s personally vetted. Jimmy, now recovered from his injuries, is among them.
The first group of women and children we managed to rescue were carried into the mansion’s infirmary, their frail bodies trembling with exhaustion. The sight of them nearly shattered my composure: grief and fury pressed against my chest, threatening to break through. I forced myself to remain steady, though every glance at their hollow eyes was a battle against despair.
Doctor Samuel and Susie worked tirelessly at my side, tending to wounds and soothing fevers. Each patient bore the marks of captivity—skin parched, lips cracked, their strength drained from days locked inside shipping containers, treated as less than human.
Within days, Serafina and I transformed a nearby building into a sanctuary. Its walls, once empty, now held the fragile hope of recovery. Dominic accompanied me there after every rescue, his presence a quiet reassurance as we walked among the survivors. Guards stood watch at every entrance, their vigilance a shield against the Albanians who might dare to reclaim what they had stolen.
In that place, surrounded by suffering and resilience, I felt the weight of both duty and rage. Yet beneath it all flickered a fragile light—the possibility of healing, and the promise that these women and children would never again be caged.
Tonight, a fundraiser will be held at Dominic’s newly opened nightclub,The Oasis. He chose to dedicate the grand opening to this cause, turning celebration into purpose. At Serafina’s suggestion, the evening will feature an auction to help raise funds.
I often think back to the night, about three months ago, when the first group was rescued. Lying beside Dominic, we spoke quietly about the fate of the women and children. At that moment, we made a promise: to stand by them, to ensure they had a chance at a better future. That conversation has stayed with me ever since, and tonight is one step toward honoring it.
“Dominic, what are we going to do for these poor people?”
“We’ll reunite them with their families. And for those with nowhere to go… we’ll take care of them.”
“They’re traumatized, Dominic. They’ll need counseling—and a safe place to heal.”
“I own a building in Brooklyn that’s sitting empty. We could turn it into housing.”
“That’s perfect. Serafina can help me organize, and I’ll reach out to some of my old colleagues. Together, we can make it a shelter.”
“That’s a good plan, Angel.”
“Maybe we could even set up a charity—something lasting, to help victims of trafficking.”
Dominic’s gaze softened. “Whatever you decide, Angel… I’ll stand behind you.”
