DANTE
Glass crunches beneath my boots as I cross the main hall.
The windows are shattered, frames hanging in jagged pieces.
Spent shell casings litter the marble floor, dozens of them scattered among overturned furniture and bullet-scarred walls.
The villa looks like a war zone because it was one.
My shoulder throbs where a bullet grazed it during the firefight.
Enzo wrapped it with gauze, but blood's already soaked through the bandage.
I can feel the warm, sticky liquid dripping down my arm beneath my shirt.
Outside, the courtyard is way worse.
Bodies sprawl across the stone pathways, some of them Antonelli's men, a few of them mine.
The Christmas lights strung between the olive trees still glow, making a soft golden aura over the carnage that feels wrong and obscene.
But this victory is no less of a gift than the wrapped packages in my den that mercifully avoided being disturbed.
Rico stands near the fountain, coordinating with Kemal's men.
The Turks arrived halfway through the assault, and their reinforcements turned the tide when Antonelli's forces were pushing through the east wall.
Without them, we'd have been overrun.
"The perimeter is secure, Boss, but we'll have a mess on our hands. We're lucky thepoliziaaren't here yet," Rico reports when he sees me approaching. "The last of Antonelli's men fled twenty minutes ago. We're tracking them, but most won't make it far."
"And Antonelli?" I ask.
"Dead, sir. Enzo put three rounds in him during the final push. His body's in the garden." Rico's face seems carved from granite.
These men fighting beside me are true soldiers.
If we manage to escape a huge police presence, it’ll be a miracle, and I'll owe it all to my soldiers.
Gerard is finished and this war is finally over.
I feel like I should be celebrating with a round of drinks with my men like normal, but there's something more important to tend to first.
My family.
"Get the cleanup crews in here," I tell Rico. "I want everybody moved before sunrise. And sweep the grounds again. Make sure there are no stragglers hiding in the shadows."
"Already on it, sir, and Enzo is raising Detective Caine to bring him in on this. We'll set it up to look like a home invasion and our dead men playing self-defense. If that's okay?"
He waits for my response, but I wave him off.
However they spin it is fine.
Caine is a capable detective and I pay him enough to make problems like these go away.
I turn toward the house.
My legs are heavy and exhausted from days of fighting.
