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I don't have time for emotions, not when I have a new mission to complete.
My clothes are on in an instant, and I'm out of the room with both Giancarlo and Xander trying to stop me.
"Vitto, we don't know what happened yet. Just let us get some information before you run off killing everyone."
"Get the fuck out of my way," I snarl in Giancarlo's face.
"Vittore!" he snaps back as if he holds some sort of dominance over me.
I grab hold of the gun I packed against the small of my back and point it in his direction. He jerks back surprised that I'd even think about pulling a weapon on him.
Family is everything in the Bianucci clan. What he doesn't understand and what none of them will understand is Stella was more than just my family; she was my fucking soul. Without it, I've got no desire to keep on living. If I die for this so be it, as long as I get to take someone out with me.
"I'm not going to tell you again, get the fuck out of my way," I say through clenched teeth.
Xander shakes his head without anything to say, grabs hold of Giancarlo, and moves him way. He must see in my eyes that I'm completely gone.
I limp out the door, my family silent and my mind completely focused on what is to happen next. Someone is going to die.
* * *
Pain throbs through my midsection as I sit in the rumbling car. It's nearly impossible to ignore, but I'm going to do my best until it's time to do what I have to do. Nothing is going to stop me from my mission.
I should've been in bed right now, recouping just like Xander suggested, but instead, I'm fighting to keep from popping a stitch. Getting to Diego's club takes longer than I expected, and when I reach the front, I notice that he's got more than just a few extra guards. I'm not going to waste time going through them; I'll just find a way around.
Pulling the car to the next block over, I hop out and grab my bag with all the equipment I'd need not only to get in but also to take care of whoever it is that might have put their hands on my woman. A grappling hook allows me to scale up the building next to his. I jump across the small gap and slide down the air vent that leads straight into the main room of the club. I told him before to get more security on the inside of the place, but he never took my warnings to heart. Now he's going to wish that he had.
I stand up too quickly and nearly fall over when my head spins violently. My eyes scan the room, and I see a slew of men and women all masked up. They stare at me like I'm fresh meat, but the look I shoot them in return must be enough to let them know that I'm not here to play, at least not with them. A small trickle of blood begins to roll down my abdomen; I can see it staining the white of my shirt through the wrap bandages.
"Sir, you don't belong in this—" A man, I'm assuming the security guard, comes up to me, his palms out as if I'm a disgruntled customer. I'm disgruntled, alright, but he's not going to be able to move me. In quick fashion, I pull him forward by his wrist and jam my forearm against his, breaking his arm in one swift motion. He drops down to the ground, screaming and crying while I step over him.
The commotion draws more guards, and I pull my weapon, not wanting to get into a full brawl but ready to take each and every one of them out if I have to.
"Diego!" I roar, searching for my little brother. When he doesn't show up right away, I call for him again. The agony and fury in my voice nearly shake the foundation. "Diego!" I scream again.
"What the fuck." He skids out from the back and stares at me. His eyes wide and his mouth dropped open slightly. He wasn't expecting to see me here either. That's his problem. Everyone should've known that I'd show up, nearly dead or not.
"Vitto, you need to hold on a minute."
"Hold on? Are you out of your fucking mind?" I take a step toward him, but when he just puts his hands up in surrender, the fury I'd just felt moments ago triples. He's giving up before I even get to him. Weak bastard. I should've known better than to leave the love of my existence in his care. I should've been here to protect her. This is my fault, and he's the only person I can take my anger out on.
I rush him, my gun forgotten by my side. Pain shoots through my midsection as I collide with him, and we go tumbling to the ground. The crowd of guests runs in opposite directions, some screaming while most just look for a place to hide in order to get out of the immediate danger.
"You fucking bastard. I trusted you! I fucking trusted you." I scream over and over as I pound into my brother's face. He does his best to block my blows, but he's never been that great of a fighter.
"Vittore! Fucking stop!" He yells back just as I dig my elbow against his throat. I'm not going to hold back. I've never had the desire to kill anyone in my family besides my father, but right now, if Diego were to wind up six feet under, I wouldn't weep.
I wrap my hands around his throat and squeeze; flashes of what I saw on the video of Stella dying explode behind my eyelids, and I feel the burn of tears. They slide down my face as I continue to choke the life out of my brother.
"Vitto!" He claws at my hands, his voice hoarse and barely able to push out of his mouth.
"You let her die! I trusted you!"
He shakes his head. Seconds pass before he begins pounding his fists against my midsection. The pain nearly makes me vomit. I can feel the stitches popping, and one quick hit from my brother nearly causes me to lose my breath. I let go of his throat for a second, and he kicks me off. I assume he's going to return the attack, but instead, he jumps to his feet, coughing, trying to get his breath, and runs away.
Like I'm not going to chase after him. My entrails could be trailing behind me, and I'd still find that bastard. I push myself up, one hand cradling my stomach as I follow him toward the back where he's disappeared to. I push open the door and see him disappearing behind what looks like a hidden entryway. I continue following, knowing full well that I could be walking into a trap. I'll deal with it later if that's the case. He rushes into a room with me close on his tail. When he turns in my direction, I'm close enough to grab him.
"Vittore!" A shrill voice calls out to me, but it's not his. My eyes dart around looking for the sound.
