He was leaving me here, going back out into a firefight. As the underboss, it was his duty. His destiny.
But I gripped him tighter. ‘Cesare, do not make me a fucking widow before we’ve even had our wedding night.’
The blaze that I saw now, which had been there since high school, at times merely simmering, oftentimes mislabelled but always, always there, flared higher than ever. Consuming me. Protecting me. ‘I make a second promise, then,’ he replied, his voice hoarse. ‘You will not lose me tonight, Maddelena Salvatore. I’m the fucking greedybastardowho will put fat babies in that belly and demand you love me and my children for decades before I draw my last breath.’ He yanked me close and planted a short, hard kiss on my quivering mouth. ‘Agreed?’
‘Agreed,’ I whispered shakily.
With one last searing look, Cesare tore off his wedding jacket, placed it gently over my shoulders.
Then, gun in hand, he stalked out of the bunker.
Leaving me to count every excruciating second.
Cesare
The good thing about the other shoe finally dropping – if there was one to be found while embroiled in a gunfight at your own wedding – was that the immovable stone in my gut was gone.
It left me clear-headed, sharp-eyed and thirsting for vengeance on those who’d dared to harm my family.My wife.
I sprinted up from the underground bunker into the hallway and froze for a moment at the carnage. The dancefloor and walls were spattered with blood and broken furniture.
A sickening number of our soldiers were down but more ‘waiters’ had met their end. Guests who hadn’t made it out cowered behind tables and doors.
A shellshocked junior congressman was cradling his sidepiece – crap, from the look of it, the woman was either dead or near death. He would need careful handling and a fat bribe to keep this under wraps. But the good thing was, he would be even deeper in our pockets. I clicked my fingers at a passing lieutenant and pointed at the congressman. He nodded and changed course, dragging the man and his girlfriend to safety.
I followed the sound of the heaviest gunfire, arriving in the darkened hallway leading to the west exit to find Dante, Rafa and several of our soldiers crouched behind a wall of bulletproof shields. Yup, someone had broken out Orazio’s prized armoury. Rafa glanced over his shoulder, and I saw his evil smirk.
I approached him in a crouch just as he jumped up and fired off a shot, catching one between the eyes.
‘What the fuck are we pissing around in the hallway for?’ I snarled.
Rafa pointed to my left. Renzo, hidden in the doorway to the pantry, was holding a gadget in his hand.
At my frown, he murmured, ‘Drone. Outside. There’s a truck coming with more of the fuckers.’
‘Show me.’
He angled the screen and I saw more men dressed as waiters jumping out of the small truck. I counted twenty, half sporting handguns, the other heavier artillery. My jaw clenched. ‘Orazio? Pops?’
‘In the nest with thirty of our men. They’re picking off any strays coming in from the east and south.’ The nest was the heavily fortified highest level of the residence with panoramic views. A great vantage point.
Satisfied they were safe, I holstered my Beretta and reached for the machinegun propped next to the wall. ‘We’re not fucking waiting for them to come in.’
Dante’s head whipped towards me. ‘You sure? They’re easy to pick off if we let them come in.’
But Rafa was reaching for another automatic, as did Fist. Around the grounds, the gunfire was dying down. I fucking hoped it meant our men were winning.
Rafa caught my arm as I stepped out of the hallway. ‘Frate, wait.’
I turned to him, jaw tighter than concrete. ‘He sent them intoourhome, on this day, Rafa,’ I seethed.
His eyes burned into mine. Whatever he was searching for he found, and he nodded. ‘Let’s go.’
I glanced back at Renzo. ‘Shout if you see more coming.’ To my men, I said, ‘Keep a couple alive for questioning.’ I was pretty damn sure this was Bonafacio’s doing, but I wanted verification all the same. Any last shred of mercy I may have harboured was gone, so I wanted that cherry on top of his grave.
A red haze washed over my eyes, shrinking the ball of fear to a pebble deep in my gut.
The first wave of enemies was gunned down within seconds, my finger never leaving the trigger. The second was more cagey. I took the decision out of their hands by prowling forward, meeting every tentative approach with a bullet. Fist kept a steady head count until three remained.
