All the surreal humour that had carried Niccolo to this point extinguished. Coldly, he looked the volatile Esposito dead in the eye. “You are not touching her.”
Tommaso’s black eyes blazed. “You think we would hurt her?”
“No, I think you would make your dogs do it for you.” Old-fashioned chivalry meant the Espositos rarely lifted a finger to the female sex, but what they did personally and what they allowed their henchmen to do were two very different things.
“You jilted my sister and humiliated our family in front of the world for her!”
“But she had nothing to do with it. You know that. You went after her because you knew I’d do everything in my power to protect her, and here we are. Georgia walks away, unharmed and safe or no deal.” He took a deep breath, clenching his jaw at what he was about to say. Privately – he’d known better than to mention it to Georgia – he’d thought it might come to this. “Why don’t you shoot me?”
“Shoot you?”
“Yes. Shoot me. In the leg or arm. Nowhere fatal. Take your shot, and if I’m happy I’m not going to die from it, I’ll give you the name. This way, you’ll have evidence that you beat me upandshot me. It will work as a warning to your enemies. I’ll give you the name of the betrayer. Everyone’s happy.” Except for the betrayer. But Niccolo had already got Dante to get word to them to run. If they had any sense, they would have already left Naples.
He felt a degree of guilt for betraying them, but so be it. So long as he got Georgia out of this unharmed, the rest of the world could burn.
The Esposito brothers conferred, not with speech but with their eyes.
How much time had passed? He’d lost track. Georgia hadn’t called…
No. He wouldn’t think of whether she was still safe in the car. He needed to keep focused.
Tommaso fixed his hateful eyes on him. “Iwill take the shot.”
“So we have a deal?”
“We have a deal,” Mattia agreed tightly.
The handshakes that followed to seal it were the most surreal handshakes of Niccolo’s life.
The deal sealed, he made the call to Zurich for the money transfer to go ahead.
“It will be in your account within the minutes,” he said once it was done. He was nearly half a billion euros poorer, but the same amount in weight had loosened from his chest, so win-win.
“Good.” Tommaso stood back and aimed the gun. “Hands in the air.”
Niccolo obeyed. “Remember, if you shoot to kill, the name dies with me,” he warned.
Tommaso’s lips twisted. He pulled the trigger.
Holding her bump tightly to protect it, Georgia ran faster than she’d ever run in her life, along the path through the high trees and emerging into a vast space filled with row upon row of headstones… and two men huddled over a third who was sprawled on the ground.
Her blood froze on the spot. Screaming his name, she ran to him.
Okay, so being shothurt. That was Niccolo’s thought as the force from the bullet sent him flying backwards onto the ground.
Winded, it took a long time for his senses to spring back to life. Mattia and Tommaso were standing over him, both staring intently at his shoulder.
He followed their gaze. Blood was pouring out of the wound.
Oh well, another shirt ruined by his own blood.
He pressed his fingers to the hole in his shoulder and determined he would live. “Nice shot.”
“Stop taking the piss and give us the name,” Tommaso raged.
“Something to stem the bleeding first?” He was no doctor, but he’d lost a lot of blood only five days ago and wasn’t sure how his body would react to losing a whole load more in such a short time frame.
Tommaso crouched down and smiled his gleaming shark smile. “That wasn’t part of the deal, arsehole.”
