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There’s no better satisfaction than revenge.
And the motherfucker made it so easy for me.
The gunshot diverts all attention away from the women as people search for the source. Jersey, one of Sonny’s guys and a twat who once pledged his undying allegiance to my father, hurls a woman off his lap. Dancers disregard their money and clothes to run into the dressing room.
Jersey hops onstage and grins as if ready for fun. Disco lights sparkle around him, and he aims his gun at me. I stand tall and smirk at him.
“It’s about damn time we killed you,” he shouts, and the music stops.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see the DJ hightailing it toward the dressing room. Two doormen remain off to the side, watching the shit show, but not stopping us. I wouldn’t risk mylife for the sake of the job either. I’m sure the owner, Sammie, is hiding in his office, waiting until the bloodshed ends to leave.
More men on both sides join us. A few of Sonny’s men run out of the club. I raise my pistol, and when Jersey squeezes the trigger, I duck and dodge the bullet.
I flash a smile when I return fire on Jersey, and the bullet lands smack dab in his forehead. His head hits the pole when he stumbles back, and another man sprints to him. While he attempts to help Jersey, I kill him next.
A two-for-one discount.
I take in my surroundings.
Damien has the barrel of his Glock underneath a man’s chin and squeezes the trigger. His brain matter splatters all over the liquor bottles and glasses.
“Motherfucker!” Declan screams when he’s punched in the face before killing the man.
I whip around when gunfire comes my way and shoot back.
We don’t stop fighting and shooting until all of Sonny’s men are dead.
Correction:all but one.
We find one cowered behind a speaker. He drags his knees to his stomach when we approach him.
“Please,” he begs, his lower lip trembling. “Don’t kill me.”
“Jesus.” Damien stops next to me and wipes blood off his forehead. “What’s he? Fourteen years old?”
“Fift—” The boy trembles. “Fifteen.”
“It seems the rumors about Sonny just accepting guys off the street with no experience are true,” Damien says while Rafael wraps his tie around his bullet wound.
This kid, along with the others, means nothing to Sonny.
That’s another difference between him and me. I’d never ask my men to do something for me that I’d never do for them. It’s fucking leadership and how my father and I built loyalty. Youdon’t win by letting your men take your downfalls while you sit boastfully on your throne.
I stare at him, contemplating what to do. Before coming in here, I made it clear any man loyal to Sonny needed to die. I remember how Cristian let Eddie live, and he came for revenge years afterward. Survivors are never good. They either rat you out or seek vengeance later.
The boy slams his eyes shut, and a tear falls down his cheek.
Sighing, I drop my gun to my side.
“Get off the streets and stop working for Sonny,” I tell the kid. “Or next time, you’ll end up dead.”
Either by me or someone else.
He hesitantly nods. Damien snatches him by the collar to bring him to his feet and walks him out. I roll my neck and cut my gaze across the room to ensure we didn’t miss anyone.
“This is going to cost you, Antonio.” Sammie strolls toward me, scrunching his weathered face while observing his club.
I toss four thousand dollars on the stage. “Here, and you can have whatever is in these dead fucks’ pockets.” I retrieve another stack of cash. “This is for the dancers. Let me know if they need more. As for the damage, send Sonny the bill.”
