“There was no fucking murder weapon ever found, and we both know Matteo didn’t kill my father!”
“Do we?” Cold smiled nastily. “All this ‘evidence’ I have seems to say otherwise.”
“You are right about one thing.” Cristian scowled. “I am definitely going to kill you.”
“Is that so?” Cold’s smile only grew.
“You may have been able to chase off Luigi and Matteo with your bullshit plans, but I’m not them.” Cristian smiled right back at him, totally confident. “You see, you’re not the only one with big fancy fuckin’ plans. I’ve known you were going to turn on me for months.”
Mickey’s heart dropped to his stomach.
The rat.
“Oh?” Cold raised his brow.
“Not long after ol’ Cousin Tony died, a little birdie came to me,” Cristian replied smugly. “I knew all about your plans to take over the city and run me and my family out. I thought you killed my father, to be perfectly honest, but no, that’s not really your style, is it? You’re too much of a little cowardlyfinocchio, huh?”
Cold’s lip twitched, but he remained calm.
“I want you to know I’m the one who sent the other assassin to hit Delgado,” Cristian declared. “I knew you were going to try and snatch him up to find out about the family’s holdings. My little birdie told me all about it. Oh, and he also told me about the delivery schedule you found in the ledger. That was me too. The raid on your safe house was my little thank you for all the fucking headaches you’ve caused me. You really have been making my life pretty difficult here lately. My birdie was more than happy to help me find a way to pay you back. Oh! My favorite part? He told me that you actually wanted tonight to be real peaceful and didn’t arrange for any backup.”
Jules stepped toward Cristian, but Cold held up his hand to stop him. He wasn’t looking at Cristian, but past him, and his scowl deepened.
From the entrance of the parking garage came over a dozen more men, all heavily armed with automatic weapons and moving to surround them.
“Your guns?” Cristian grinned. “Drop them.”
Mickey bared his teeth furiously, looking to Cold for instruction. There was no way that he was actually going to surrender. There couldn’t be.
Cold sighed, and he nodded after a long pause. “Go on. Do as he says.”
Mickey couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He watched as Jules and the others abandoned their weapons, and his skin crawled.
“Boss?” he implored. “Please. No. Not like this.”
“Do it, Mickey,” Cold commanded, scowling at him. “Now.”
“Shit.” Mickey wanted to scream, sickened with rage as he took his guns from their holsters. He could feel all the Luchesi men’s eyes on him, and he had never felt so helpless.
Angrily, he kneeled down and slammed his guns on the floor by his feet.
“I’ve been one fucking step ahead of you from the very fuckin’ start,” Cristian said with a triumphant sneer. “I was actually hoping you’d take care of one of my brothers for me, or even both. But that doesn’t matter now. The city is mine, and you? Well, it’s all over for you. Your little rebellion is done.”
Mickey’s hands hovered over his empty holsters, and he searched the garage urgently for a way out of this. Even as fast as he could shoot, he wouldn’t be able to kill all these men. There were too many of them, and they’d blast him before he could grab his guns.
Jules stayed close to Cold, and his eyes were narrowed into venomous slits at Cristian. No matter what happened, Mickey was sure Jules would take Cristian out before he went down.
Crybaby hooked her thick arm around Pym’s shoulders and began to whisper something in his ear to calm his sudden wave of tears.
Jerry said something in French and lit up a cigarette.
Duncan was looking at the ground, and he didn’t say a word.
Rufus, that bastard, was trying to wave and get Cristian’s attention as if he could talk his way out of this somehow.
Roger was holding his head high, and he looked oddly resigned to their fate. He was calm, quiet, and he turned to smile sadly at Mickey. “It’s been real fun. Thanks for blowin’ my mind, and… well, everything else.”
That’s when Mickey knew they were all going to die.
