I cock back the slide of my gun and push open the door. “You know what does get me excited?”
“I’m not sure I want to hear it.”
“Revenge.” I grin at him and nod toward the firehouse. “Let’s go.”
I walk forward into the night. Enzo follows at my back. I stride forward, not caring if the men protecting Corrado notice me. They don’t know it yet, but they’re all dead already.
When I’m close, the rest of the Marino soldiers come streaming out of the vans. A dozen of them, two dozen of them, all heavily armed, covered in armor, masked up and armed to the teeth. The lights inside the firehouse turn on, making the place bright, and gunshots crack out around me. Someone is shooting from the roof.
I reach the front door first. A second later, one of the soldiers comes barreling forward with a battering ram. He hits so hard the door shatters off its hinges and flies inward, making the soldier stumble and fall flat on his face.
I step on his back as I go in, gun raised, and shoot the first fucking man I see.
The rest is total insanity. More Marino soldiers stream in behind me. There’s yelling and screaming. I kill another man, painting his skull against the wall behind him, and there’s blood flying through the air all around me. The nightmarish sound of automatic weapons is like a symphony for my ringing ears. I’mgrinning madly, and I swear I can hear Stefano laughing nearby. He’s leading the back side’s team and sweeping in through the rear.
We get pinned down on the steps. The men upstairs fight ferociously. They know that each and every one of them is dead unless they can repel us somewhere. But numbers don’t lie. Filippo was right about that. We have twice the men and twice the firepower, and eventually someone throws a grenade up the steps and clears away the defenders enough to get some bodies on the top landing.
The floor’s slick with blood, and the place smells like death. I hurry up behind a squad of soldiers and watch as they turn a defender’s body into a piece of bloody meat. Blood slicks the walls and the floor, blood coats men and splashes across my body, and blood mists in the air, hanging like beautiful red rain. I love it all. I’m grinning and in my element.
“Luca, over here!” Enzo shouts at me over the fighting. He’s standing at the back, looking into a room and gesturing with his gun.
I stride over to find Marino soldiers inside, their weapons aimed at a mattress on the floor.
Lying between two women is Corrado Serrano.
He’s naked and hairy. His lips are pulled back, showing teeth.
There are drugs on the floor near them, a little spoon and some vials. Gear for a bunch of junkies. The girls seem only half aware, and they’re young, too fucking young.
My jaw works with sick rage as I grab the old fuck by the hair and throw him onto the floor.
“Is this how you planned on running the goddamn business? With heroin in your veins?”
Sweat sheens his forehead. “I was always going to be a better Don than my nephew, that weak fucking rat.”
“You tried to kill my wife. You came after my business. You were dead the second you tried to cross me.”
“Goddamn fucking interloper.” Corrado snarls and tries to lunge forward, but I kick him hard in the chest. He topples back to the floor with a groan. “I knew the girl marrying you was a fucking bad idea. Now the Marinos will own the Serranos. We’ll be nothing underneath your control.”
“The family will be alive and functioning. We’re bailing them out, you stupid bastard.” I crouch down and press the gun to his throat. He stares at me, and all his bravado melts away.
That’s what happens in the face of death. No matter how hard a man is, survival always takes over, especially for a pathetic creature like Corrado.
“We can make a deal,” he says softly. “I’ll back down. I’ll bend the knee to Raf. You need me to help heal the family.”
“Who says anything about healing?” I lean forward, grinning wickedly. “You crossed the line. You started the war. And now you pay for it.”
“Wait, please.” He holds up his hands, eyes wide. “I’ll do anything. I’ll leave the country. I’ll beg the other Capos to proclaim Raf. Anything! Please!”
“Nothing sweeter than a dead man begging,” I whisper and pull the trigger.
Corrado’s throat explodes in a shower of blood. He topples back, but he’s not dead yet. The old man chokes on his blood, trying to gasp for air, trying to pull it in through the new hole I made for him, but he only drowns, nice and slow. I watch him thrashing and kicking until he finally, finally goes still.
“How was that?” Enzo asks from the door, looking amused.
“Fucking fantastic.” I grin back at him. The building beyond is a graveyard. It’s painted with blood. “Let the girls go. Give them some money. Make sure they don’t spend it on fucking junk.”
“Understood.” He keeps pace as I walk past him, stepping over pools of blood and piles of corpses as my men begin cleaning house. They’ll take anything valuable. They fucking deserve it. “Three dead. All things considered, that’s a very good night.”
