The concrete floor didn't just open; it groaned like a dying beast as the manual locking mechanisms broke beneath the weight of Dante’s boot.
Above them, the ceiling of the panic room was raining liquid fire. The thermite charge the Rossi Syndicate had placed on the upper seals had finally eaten through the outer steel reinforcement, sending white-hot sparks and blinding white slag dripping down into the cramped space. The air instantly turned into a toxic, unbreathable soup of burning rubber, pulverized stone, and chemical smoke.
Lorenzo let out a sharp, choked cough from his corner. He could barely raise his head, his hands limply clutching the automatic rifle across his lap as the blinding heat from above flared across his pale, sweat-slicked face. "They're through," the Underboss ras
