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“Wha-ho, look who it is.” He spreads his arms wide, and all of the men tense. Deangelo reaches for his pistol, but Sal holds up his finger, then points to his hand inside his blazer. “Hey, hey, hey, no need to go reaching for anything, capisce? You see, Don Carlo, I’m lost.” He shrugs, looking up to the enforcers he brought leaning over the balcony above. “Me and my friends, we must’ve took a wrong turn, or something.”
A tense moment lingers in the air. But for me? This is salvation.
I don’t know how, or why Donny would risk himself in a setting like this, but I’m not about to blow my chance. The only people who know about Alessia are in this room. And the attention is no longer on me.
I snap forward, remove the enforcer’s peeking gun, and shoot him in the head.
By the time the other’s turn, Sal unleashes some shots before hiding behind the staircase.
Cursing and frantic movements are happening all around me. I use one of the goons’ bodies as a shield as I pump Juvo full of lead. Blood splashes and his body jerks – he was so close to pointing his gun on me, but it flies out of his hand from the barrage of bullets.
Deangelo is the only one calm enough to assess the situation. He’s a stone-cold murderer, like me. And has the wherewithal to change directions and point his gun to the balcony when Sal hides.
Bullets ricochet everywhere – off the giant chandelier, the cast-iron banister, the ceiling. My ears ring from the chaos.
I’m forced to spin and fall with the goon’s body as a meat shield, while Deangelo empties a magazine in my direction.
Fuck.
There’s a pinch on my side, and the body over me twitches from gunshot wounds.
Bam!
A body hits the floor mere feet from my head – one of Sal’s men – while Deangelo ducks back into the reception room with the Don and one of his goons.
I flip the meat shield off of me and assess my own damage. There’s blood all over the floor and smeared all over my hands. Though only a little bit of it is mine. I touch my hip – they grazed me, that’s all. A rash-looking line tore through my suit where the bullet seared my skin.
I get up, toss the empty gun in my grip, and take the next two closest to me. I’m not waiting for Sal or anyone. These two fuckers won’t stop until the entire Valentino-Rigiano family is underground, which now includes Sia.
They have to die.
And they have to die now.
I stuff one of the guns in my pants and haul up the thinnest of the fallen men. I drag him to the double doors and throw the body in to gunshots blaring.
Keeping the door creaked open, I eye the corpse’s left shoulder. Deangelo is hiding on the left side of the reception judging by the wounds.
Who’s the cornered animal now?
I race to the next set of doors that the staff used to get in and out of the room, and burst in too fast for them to turn.
Three shots leave my gun just to alert them. I need them to think they’re in danger so they’ll switch positions. I’m hiding under one of the tables, in primal hunting mode, searching for any movement.
Deangelo will move the Don now that he thinks there’s a threat behind him. And when I see his chubby legs trying to scurry, my aim shifts between two chairs, and I fire.
Bang!
“Ahr!” Don Carlo shouts his agony as a bullet nearly explodes his ankle.
Deangelo and the remaining goon send shots in my direction, but he’s a table off. Those split-seconds are crucial, giving me time to aim at another set of legs.
Bang!
A kneecap pops, and down goes the last of Carlo’s goons.
All that’s left is the rival killer.
He knows my location now, so I crawl like I’m a military infantryman to the next table, stalking for the last set of legs. A quick check of my ammo tells me I have two shots left in this gun, so I toss it as a distraction and pull out the pistol in my pants with a full magazine.
