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“A duel, then,” I said out loud, making sure every one of his men heard. Most of them were made of honor and integrity. I knew them all personally, and not one would interfere if Moretti conceded to my request.
“A duel.” He said, lifting his gun to his side.
I popped the single bullet into the chamber, ready to take as much as I gave. He could shoot me down, but this bullet would end nowhere else but inside him.
Moretti started to count down from ten, and just as I suspected, the fucker turned and took his shot before reaching one. Again, I dove into the snow, hoping it was high enough to cover me.
“Kill him!” He shouted, rage and despair drenching his words. “I SAID KILL HIM!”
He shot again and again and again, until his gun was empty. I counted each one, bouncing to my feet after the last.
“This is for Toni,” I said, half a second before squeezing the trigger, aiming for his forehead.
The shot rang louder than the fire. Louder than the explosion. Louder than the fears running through my body.
I watched as Moretti’s mouth fell open, his eyes almost bulging from their sockets while he crumbled to his knees and painted the snow in crimson.
Chapter 11
Giancarlo
I wish Toni were here.
This victory was ours, and I wished nothing more than to share it with him. Standing at my parents’ grave, I placed a freshly picked Juliet rose on their headstone. Christmas morning had always been painful, bringing up memories that had faded throughout the years while guilt for forgetting consumed us.
This had been our ritual every year since they died. Before heading to Battaglia Manor, I paid my respects and mourned for the loss of my entire family, knowing that, finally, it was my time to create a new one.
Elena waited for me by the door. A blue dress under a Christmasy apron, a big smile and open arms welcomed me into the house of my former enemy.
Don Battaglia stood a few feet behind her, his arm outstretched, waiting to greet me.
“You’ve done well, Giancarlo. Your loyalty shows me you’re an honorable man.”
“Thank you, Don Battaglia. I’ve never wanted a kingdom. That was my brother’s dream.”
“Well, maybe you should honor his memory and be the best Lord this reign has ever seen.”
I turned back to look at Elena, her eyes sparkling with joy.
“You’ll take my name, boy. Make sure the Battaglia legacy lives for generations to come. After all, your own father was one of ours.” Don Battaglia said, his voice final and resolute.
“I don’t know anything about being a leader.”
“I’d swear otherwise. Last night you led my men and brought them back whole. They hold no loyalty to you, yet somehow, you’ve earned their trust and respect. That’s what true leaders are made of, Son. The rest is just noise.”
“Say yes, Giancarlo, please.” Elena pleaded, hope swimming in those alluring jade eyes that always hit me like laser beams straight in the chest.
“I have only one condition.” I countered, Don Battaglia suddenly losing the easiness in his shoulders. “Moretti killed my mother. An innocent woman. We vow to act as family, to protect our own, yet we don’t even know how to protect our loved ones from ourselves. The underworld doesn’t need to live in chaos. We can find an order and reinforce it. We already have the fucking code, we just have to abide by it and make sure every clan of the Italian Mafia does, too, or we’ll be forever fighting two wars— with ourselves and with the enemy.”
Don Battaglia’s lips spread into a sincere smile, his eyes shining with something resembling pride.
“You’re definitely a Battaglia at heart. Let me tell you about a little project we’re working on. A Commission to rule over every mafioso, where Lords are chosen to enforce our law. Five men. Notorious and honorable. Unbiased with an acute moral compass. It seems like what you’re demanding is something well on its way. Maybe after you go grab a shower and fresh clothes, we can talk about it over Christmas lunch.”
I nodded once and took Elena’s outstretched hand, following her upstairs. I reeked of smoke and revenge, and for the first time since forever, I was at peace with myself on Christmas morning.
“What the fuck is that thing still doing here?” I said, noticing the damn wedding dress still hanging in front of Elena’s closet.
Hot jealousy ran through my veins, making my palm itchy for another punishment. I slammed the door shut and pushed her against the closet, holding her by her throat. Just like the day I met her in that alley, she gasped, but it wasn’t fear that coursed her body.
