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Careful. That wasn’t in my nature nor was it possible. With every hour that passed, the Bratva’s ability to create a wider path of destruction grew. Where I was going, I wouldn’t need my phone. I tossed it on the seat, glancing into the rearview mirror, the tension mounting.
As I made the last turn, I noticed flames coming from somewhere on the estate. Tomaso hadn’t been wrong. By the time I flew through the gates, I could hear gunfire popping all around. There was no time to lose.
I jumped out seconds after cutting the engine, grabbing the assault rifle already loaded.
“What the hell?” Lorenzo growled as he flanked my side.
“Take the east side of the estate. Have Dante take the west,” I ordered, scanning the perimeter as Bruno rushed by my side.
“I’m coming with you, sir,” Bruno told me.
“Make certain there is at least one survivor. I need to know the extent of Mattia’s treachery.”
“Don’t worry. The fucker might be a pincushion, but he’ll be alive when I bring him to you.” Lorenzo grinned.
“Under no circumstances is anyone to touch my brother. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
There was no time to waste. I headed toward the main part of the estate, several soldiers as well as Bruno following. Within seconds, what I now considered enemy soldiers rushed from the shadows, firing off round after round.
I sprayed bullets across an area of the darkened forests, the soldiers I trusted doing the same. Initially, the fuckers came from every direction, firing indiscriminately.
There was an explosion coming from another part of the estate, the shots fired getting closer.
Suddenly, Bruno pushed me to the ground, letting off a barrage of gunfire. I scrambled to my knees, firing in the opposite direction.
“Jesus,” he muttered, popping off two more randomly.
Finally, their numbers dwindled, an eerie quiet settling in.
Without saying anything, I headed toward the house. Bruno stood watch on the stoop, ensuring I wasn’t interrupted. The door was ajar. I stopped short, ignoring the sounds of gunfire behind me. I pushed the thick wood open with the butt of my rifle, anticipating an ambush. None came. As I walked inside, the eerie quiet there as well caught my attention first.
Then the bloody handprints slapped against the wall prickled my rage even more. Within seconds, I found the body of the main housekeeper, her lifeless eyes a clear indication of a surprise attack.
I moved through the house silently, swinging the rifle from one side to the other. Several soldiers followed, breaking off to check other rooms. Other residential staff had been gunned down, their lifeless bodies strewn across the living room floor. I stood in the brightly lit kitchen, forced to take a pot of almost dry water off the burner.
Food remained on the counters, a fully cooked roast covered in the chef’s blood. My anger continued to increase, bloodlust capturing my mind. As soon as I shifted toward Franco’s office, I heard a noise.
I motioned Bruno to follow me, the others fanning out through other areas of the house. As with the entrance, his office door was standing ajar, only several holes had been blasted through the wood.
I kicked it open, storming inside. Franco was slumped against the wall leaving a trail of blood, gasping for air. I rushed to his side, easily seeing the wounds in his chest were mortal.
“What happened?” I asked, trying to keep a gentle tone in my voice. “Mattia?”
Franco sputtered, blood oozing from his mouth. He finally opened his eyes, both bloodshot and completely dilated. He didn’t have much time. I was shocked when he gripped my arm, his hold surprisingly strong. The gurgling sounds he made fueled the anger.
“Na… No.”
“This wasn’t Mattia’s doing?”
“I… always… loved you like my son.”
The confession of a dying man. “That no longer matters. Who did this?”
“I… promised your father… I’d care for you if…” Coughing, he spit up strings of blood, his grip remaining firm. “You will… be an excellent Don.”
“Who did this, Franco? Who? Where is Mattia?”
