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Renzo watches on in eager anticipation. He’s grinning as he waits for me to do it. For me to take the shot and pull the trigger.
I close my eyes, shutting out the imagery of a tearful Delphine, and I do it. My finger presses down against the metal hook that’s about to decide my fate. It activates the spring inside the revolver, setting it off to fire.
Click.
Empty.
My shot was empty. I sputter out a relieved breath, opening my eyes like I’ve been born again.
Renzo nods. “Not bad. My turn.”
He takes the revolver and does what I did. He holds it up to the side of his head, inhales a steadying breath, and then he pulls the trigger.
Click.
Empty.
He slides it back toward me. “Your go, little boy.”
There are six chambers in a revolver. We’ve used up two of them. Which means out of the four, one is the kill shot. I’ve got a seventy-five percent chance of making it through this round. But by the time it’s my next turn, my chances will have diminished by half.
I get it over with quicker on the second go. The barrel of the gun grazes my temple as I wrap my finger around the trigger and then squeeze it.
Click.
Empty.
“Guess it’s me again,” Renzo says. He glances toward the side of the room where his men stand post.
For the first time since this twisted situation began, I detect nerves from him. He tries to play it off by snatching up the revolver and rushing through his next pull of the trigger.
Another click that’s the most ominous yet.
Two left.
As I pick the revolver up, I’m fully aware that this could be it. This could be my demise. I could really die playing some fucked up game against an old nemesis I didn’t realize was still alive. My wife will be forced to see it firsthand… and who knows what’ll happen to her after the fact.
None of my men are around to run interference. Renzo could do what he’s set out to do and eliminate me, effectively taking out the Mancino family.
It’s funny, because I spent my whole youth not caring if I lived or died. I spent many years as a grown man feeling that way. So certain I’d die at the end of my war with Lucius that it never mattered to me if I did. As long as I got my revenge, that was all that mattered.
An early demise never scared me then. Life was pointless other than the meaning I assigned it—wreak havoc and get revenge.
The guy with that mindset feels almost like a foreigner today.
I couldn’t feel more differently as I pick up the revolver and press it to my temple for the final time.
I’m more than just a troublemaker seeking to make my piece of shit father pay. I’m a mafia boss in my own right, heading the most powerful family in the state. A successful businessman who is damn good at what he does. A friend and source of wisdom and leadership to the men who loyally follow me.
A husband who hopes to grow old beside the woman he loves. Maybe even a father someday.
I want to live.
With this squeeze of the trigger, it’s all up in the air. My fate spins like a coin that’s been flipped. Heads or tails. A fifty-fifty shot I’ll live to breathe another breath.
Click.
Empty.
