AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I step inside with Siena on my heels. The brothers are all behind the counter, and their father’s sitting in the back room where just a few days ago I put a bullet in Zita’s head. The room’s been cleared out—too much blood splattered everything to save much. There’s a new desk, bland and empty, and it’s covered in files and papers. I glance to my right—and find a dark stain on the carpet. All that’s left of Renato.
Siena hugs herself as she moves over toward where Santo’s leaning back against the wall. He looks at her and nods once, but says nothing. Enzo’s speaking quietly to their father who’s flipping through some accounting books. Franco runs a hand through his hair and quietly holds the small gate open for me.
I slip through like a ghost and pull my gun free of the holster.
Guido Bastone doesn’t look up. He’s too engrossed in whatever he’s seeing in those books. Enzo’s leaning over him, guiding him through the numbers—they keep records of their girls, apparently—and speaking into his ear. I can’t hear what he’s saying, but it doesn’t matter. The moment hangs, and I feel all the eyes in the room on me. Siena, Santo, Franco. They’re staring and waiting for what’s about to happen.
This is their chance to turn back. Santo or Franco could change their minds right now, pull a weapon, and end me. I’m not looking at them. I’m barely aware of their existence. This is their chance to save their father, but nobody moves.
I chamber a round. The unmistakable click-clack of a bullet sliding into the barrel of my gun breaks the silence.
Enzo stands up straight. He turns, but doesn’t look surprised. A specter of a grimace slides over his face like a black shadow.
Guido Bastone’s mouth drops open when he spots me.
“Maxim?” He says my name like a curse and shoves his chair back. It bashes into Enzo’s shin. He grunts and steps aside as his father barrels out of the back room, his face turning red with rage. “How dare you come back here, you little shit? Do you have any idea how much trouble you caused me? Killing Zita and those two guards. Three corpses. That’s a lot of fucking trouble. And now you’re—”
I don’t let him finish his rant. I raise the gun and point it at his head.
His eyes go wide.
I wonder if he ever imagined this might happen. A man like him probably drifts through life thinking everyone will bow and scrape at his fucking feet. He raised his children to worship him like a god and yet he managed to break them so thoroughly, so deeply that they’re willing to end his life to avoid his nonstop torrent of abuse.
“What the fuck is this?”
He doesn’t believe it. I don’t smile. It’s not funny. Enzo slips out of the back room and shuffles around to stand behind me. Santo and Franco join him, and Siena remains at the far end of the room.
Guido looks at his boys and spots his girl near the door. His eyes go wider, and his lips move on their own like he’s saying a prayer. Understanding drops into place. It’s like watching a musician find the beat and the melody, and suddenly everything’s on track. He takes a step back as if there’s somewhere to go—but he’s trapped. He knows what’s happening.
“It ends now, Papa,” Enzo says and his voice is quiet fury. “We didn’t want it to come to this, but after what you’ve done to Siena—”
“Siena? Your traitor bitch sister?” Guido’s neck bulges with veins and muscles as spittle flies from his mouth. He’s in a blinding rage. “Suddenly, you care what happens to the little whore? She betrayed the family, or don’t you remember, you stupid cunt?”
“Stop, Papa,” Franco says suddenly, stepping forward. I can feel his tension rolling from him in waves. “You don’t matter anymore. It’s finished.”
“Watch your mouth, boy. What are you three doing with this fucking Russian? This murderer? You’re going to let him kill your own father?”
“Yes,” Santo says. He sounds almost calm. “Because none of us have the balls to kill our own father, but you need to go, Papa. We let you torture us long enough.”
“Torture.” Guido sneers at them. “You know what my father used to do to me, don’t you? He cut me when I stepped out of line. He beat me bloody. He broke my wrist on my tenth birthday because I cried when I dropped my cake on the floor. You think I’ve been bad to you? Clearly, I haven’t been bad enough. I should’ve been harder, then maybe you three wouldn’t have stabbed your own father in the chest.”
“Enough,” Enzo says. “Be quiet, old man. You’re finished. After everything you’ve done. After the abuse and the dead girls. You’re finished.”
Guido laughs. He laughs like this is somehow hilarious, and Enzo flinches away like he’s about to be hit. I feel sorry for them, and I want to pull the trigger, but I know the boys need this moment with their father. They need the closure of telling their father why they’re letting him die.
Siena comes forward them. I feel her more than see her. She puts her hands down on the counter and leans forward, and her voice is eerily quiet.
“Die with some grace, Papa. Lord knows you never lived with any.”
“Traitors,” Guido says. “All of you are traitors. At least this Russian has the balls to face me. Look at the three of you. You’re all cowards.”
“It’s time,” I say, glancing at Enzo. “You should go.”
Enzo’s jaw works. “I should stay.”
“No. There’s no honor in staying. He’s dead already. You don’t need to see it happen. Just go and take Siena outside.”
Enzo hesitates, but he moves. “Goodbye, Papa. We won’t miss you.” He steps through the gate while his father laughs and curses at him. Santo and Franco follow, and I hear them pull Siena along. The door opens and closes, and I’m alone with Guido Bastone.
