Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 33564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
I glare all the hate and rage I feel right at him, hoping he can feel it all, hoping it fucking burns him and that he remembers it until the day he dies.
He clucks his tongue. “Of course you don’t know. Because you’re soft. You and your brother. I’ve gone too easy on you for far too long. You don’t have what it takes to kill him. He doesn’t have it either.” His eyes brighten. “But maybe he can prove himself worthy. Maybe he can show me that he deserves to inherit this empire, now that you’ve shown me you clearly don’t.”
Reaching behind him, he pulls out a switchblade and flicks it open. “Sal, get over here.”
My brother walks up, his posture stiff.
“Your brother has betrayed us. What do we do to anyone who does that?” Dad asks.
Sal glances at him, then me. “We kill them.”
“We do.” My father nods and holds out the blade. “Finish Sergei. He’s not worth it. You do this, son, and you will be head of this family one day. And if you don’t …” He chuckles. “Well, Sergei will die by my hand.” He wobbles the blade in front of Sal’s face. “Make your choice.”
Sal takes a deep breath, then grabs the knife.
My father crosses his arms over his chest and steps back, a smug grin taking over his lips.
I look at Sal and raise my chin.
He steps to me, his hand moving toward my throat. He pauses right as the blade touches my neck.
“I’ll make it quick,” he says.
“Don’t,” I say through gritted teeth. “Make it fucking hurt.”
He gives me a slight nod.
I hold my breath as the blade stings my skin, and then duck back as Sal turns and throws the knife right at our father.
Dad is already in motion, side-stepping the blade that then embeds in one of his soldiers.
Gunfire rings out, but somehow it isn’t coming from inside.
“What the fuck?” Sal rushes to me, and both of us take cover behind my SUV as more bullets lodge into the side of the warehouse. Men are yelling as Sal makes quick work of the rope on my wrists. “Who’s here?” He hands me a pistol and pulls his own from its holster.
I may not know for certain who our attackers are, but I have a gut feeling. One that fills me something akin to warmth. “You could’ve done it.” I check the pistol chamber and make sure it’s loaded. Men run all around us, some of them falling from the nonstop hail of bullets.
“Killed you?”
“Yeah. I wouldn’t have blamed you.”
He rolls his eyes. “You’re such a dramatic psycho. If I kill you, it’ll be on my terms. Not his.”
My father’s men return fire, and I peek around the SUV to try and see what the fuck is going on. Figures in black are pouring in through the gate, and several are already hunkered down in various cover positions outside. We’re surrounded.
Movement catches my eye, and that’s when I know the feeling in my gut was spot on. Vincent Fernandino is just outside the warehouse, and he drops two of my father’s men one after another. Only a few stragglers remain, and most of them are wounded, from the sound of groans and whining.
“Luca Taletti!” Vincent roars. “Come out now, you coward!”
Sal and I exchange a look. What the fuck?
I peek out again and see my father leaning from the shadows at the side of the warehouse, his gun pointed at Vincent, ready to take a pot shot and end the kid’s life.
Without thinking, without even breathing, I pull my gun up and fire.
My father stumbles from the shadows, his gun dangling in one hand as he grips his stomach with the other.
Vincent shoots me a glance, then stalks to my father.
Sal and I come out from behind the SUV.
Vincent’s men take aim at us. “No,” he calls. “Remember my orders.”
The men grumble but lower their weapons.
My father falls to his knees, his gaze on me as I stride to him. “Son, help …” he sputters.
Vincent drops to his haunches. “Which son are you asking?”
That question hits me like a brick to the face, because as soon as it’s out in the air, I can see it. The resemblance. It must hit Sal too, because he runs a hand through his hair and mutters, “Fuck.”
“You raped my mother, you piece of shit.” Vincent gets back to his feet. “You tried to rape my sister.”
“If you kill me, my men will come for you. They will hunt you down. They will—”
“Not if I do it.” I raise my gun to his head. “Not if I take the crown. They will follow me.” I glance at Sal. “Me and my brother. Together. But you deserve your revenge,” I tell Vincent. “And Olivia deserves a man who will kill for her, no matter the cost.”