“Sir, step back and let us work,” the female EMT ordered firmly. Gentle but unyielding, she pushed me aside as her team began chest compressions, fighting to pull him back from the edge.
I refused to accept the possibility of losing my brother. Numbness dulled my senses, and I avoided looking at his still form. For once, I prayed. Time blurred—minutes, maybe more—until a voice cut through. “Sir, we managed to stabilize your brother. We’re a minute from the hospital. He’ll need emergency surgery.”
“Thank you.” It was all I could manage. My eyes stung, filling with tears I quickly wiped away.
The ambulance stops suddenly in front of the Brooklyn Memorial Hospital. Dante is rushed into the Emergency room and from there taken directly into surgery.
Hours have dragged by with no word, despite our repeated demands for answers. Dario has had to hold me back more than once from tearing into the staff. I keep telling myself that silence must mean good news.
Dario and Jimmy sit with me in the family room outside the operating theatre. They arrived just after the ambulance. The coffee Jimmy brought me sits untouched on the table, long gone cold.
Damn it!
Brio Leone should have been eliminated cleanly, with precision. We had every detail mapped out, but it unraveled fast.
Days ago, when Dante picked up Carmine Fiore, he uncovered the truth—Brio had kidnapped Carmine’s daughter and forced him to steal from me. The girl is only twenty,innocent in all of this. Carmine had no choice. A father will do anything to protect his child.
Carmine Fiore was no fool. He knew we’d uncover the theft—he was counting on it. My scrutiny of the books is infamous, and he made the missing money glaringly obvious. Even a child could have spotted it. When Dante confronted him, Carmine was relieved.
With his cooperation, we set a trap for Leone. Desperate for cash, stripped of assets, and hunted by the Cosa Nostra, Leone had nowhere to run. The arrogant bastard thought he could steal from us and walk away. His greed was his undoing. Pressing Carmine for more money sealed his fate.
Carmine revealed the system: cash drops in public areas, never the same spot twice. Instructions arrived barely an hour before each drop. He’d leave the bag in a designated trash can, then walk away, pretending nothing had happened.
Brio’s greed had grown—this time he demanded two million dollars, to be dropped in a Brooklyn park for the girl’s release. Once Carmine received the location, we moved quickly, surrounding the park with my men. The plan was simple: reunite the girl with her father, then close in on Leone.
The drop was set for six o’clock. The park was nearly deserted, shadows stretching long across the swings. Carmine followed instructions, sliding the bag of cash into a trash can beside the bench nearest the playground. His daughter was waiting at the entrance, and once she was safely in his arms, he left to take her away.
We didn’t wait long. Leone appeared, flanked by three of his muscles. He didn’t trust anyone else with that kind of money. One thug pulled the bag from the trash, setting it on the bench to check the contents. That was our cue.
We closed in, surrounding them.
Brio was becoming greedier. He had requested two million dollars this time, to be dropped off at a park in Brooklyn in exchange for the girl's release.
They were so intent on the cash that they never saw us coming. Before Leone could reach for his weapon, my men dropped his thugs to the ground. Dario and Dante flanked me, guns leveled at the bastard.
“Brio Leone,” I said evenly, hands tucked casually into my pockets as I stared at him. “You’ve been a hard man to find. Your biggest mistake wasn’t stealing from me—it was going after my wife.”
His eyes flickered, and he barked out a laugh. “It was Salvatore’s idea, not mine. He promised the Albanians we’d honor the deal. We were going to make millions.” His laughter twisted into rage. “You were supposed to marry my daughter—but you killed her!”
The man was unhinged, his fury snapping like a live wire.
Then the gunfire erupted. Shots cracked from the shadows beyond the bench. We dove for cover as Leone’s body crumpled beside us. Splinters exploded from the bench, raining down as we fired blindly into the darkness, the air thick with smoke and chaos.
We were exposed, sitting ducks with no nearby cover. The only option was to pinpoint the shooter’s position. Jimmy and the rest of my personal guard were already moving in from the park entrance, their footsteps closing in.
“Cover me,” I barked at Dario and Dante. Without waiting for a reply, I vaulted over the bench. Gunfire erupted as they unleashed shots toward the attacker. I zigzagged across the open ground, firing as I ran to make myself a harder target.
The distance closed quickly. Dario and Dante fell in beside me, while Jimmy’s men advanced, providing cover for our movement.
We tracked them into the trees bordering the park. Forced to abandon their sniper rifles, they came at us hand-to-hand. I barely registered the chaos around me—my focus was singular: take these bastards down. A few broke and ran—cowards disappearing into the dark.
The fight was brutal but brief. Minutes, maybe less. Then silence. The park wasn’t isolated; the gunfire had surely carried. There was no chance of cleaning up before the authorities arrived.
We bolted for the vehicles. Dario behind the wheel, Dante riding shotgun, me in the back. Jimmy and the others followed in a second SUV. My mind raced. Who were those men? Leone couldn’t afford mercenaries. And judging by the way they turned their guns on him, it looked like he was their target too.
“Whoever they were, they did us a favor by taking him out,” Dante muttered, though Dario stayed silent. Minutes later, he braked at a red light. A van slid up beside us. Another shadowed Jimmy’s SUV.
The light turned green. We rolled forward. They kept pace. My gut twisted. Then—impact. A deafening bang as metal slammed into our side. I fired off shots in the split second before the second hit. Our SUV was shoved hard against the guardrail. Steel screamed, the barrier gave way.
