“Dominic Calabrese,” I reply mockingly, my voice steady despite the rage burning in my chest. “The inconsequential little man who was stupid enough to think he could manipulate and murder a DeLuca and a DeLuca ally and get away with it.”
“I’m stupid?” He laughs, signaling his men to spread out around us. “Your boyfriend is bleeding out in some makeshift medical station, your compound is burning, and in five minutes federal agents are going to storm in here and arrest everyone still breathing. I’d say I’ve brilliantly achieved what I set out to do.”
The words about Alessandro make my heart squeeze painfully, but they also crystallize my fury into something cold and sharp.This man is the reason why Alessandro was shot. This man tried to destroy my family. This man thinks he’s won.
He’s about to learn exactly how wrong he is.
“You made one mistake, Dominic,” I tell him, feeling my soldiers take positions around me. “You forgot that when you corner a DeLuca, we don’t surrender. We destroy everything in our path.”
“Oh, do you?” His smile is mocking as he raises his pistol. “Let’s see how much destroying you can do.”
The firefight erupts in close quarters, brutal and vicious. Dominic’s men are professionals, but they’re facing DeLuca soldiers who are fighting to avenge their wounded leader. The room fills with gunfire and smoke as we exchange shots across overturned furniture and debris.
I’m not even thinking anymore. I’m just feeling. Every shot is calculated for maximum effect. Dominic’s soldiers fall one by one, but he keeps fighting, ducking behind cover and returning fire with the desperate behavior of a man who knows he’s about to lose everything.
“You should have stayed hidden in whatever hole your family crawled out of,” I shout as I reload, using Giuseppe’s brutal directness to press the attack.
“You should have died in that trial like you were supposed to,” he shouts back, his bullets sparking off the pillar I’m using for cover.
“Maybe you should have actually made them tough!” I taunt, peeking over the pillar and shooting. Dominic’s bark of pain is a sound I will cherish forever.
The battle continues for what feels like hours but is probably only minutes. My ears ring from the confined gunfire, and smoke burns my eyes, but I keep moving, keep shooting, keep closing the distance between us.
Finally, it’s just Dominic and me, facing each other across a room littered with bodies and brass casings. His weapon is empty and mine has one bullet left. We’re both breathing hard, both bloodied, both pushed past the point of exhaustion.
“This is for Alessandro,” I tell him, my voice steady despite everything.
“This is for my family,” he snarls back, reaching for a backup weapon.
I’m faster.
The bullet catches him dead center, driving him backward against the wall. His hand falls away from his weapon as blood spreads across his expensive shirt. But he’s still conscious, still staring at me with hatred burning in his dark eyes.
“You think…you think this ends it?” he gasps, blood frothing at his lips. “The feds…they’re not here by accident. I made sure…made sure they’d come for you.”
I walk closer, my empty weapon still trained on him. “Maybe they will, but you won’t be around to see it.”
I draw my backup piece and put a final bullet through his forehead. The hatred finally fades from his eyes as he slides down the wall, leaving a crimson smear on the white paint.
“Give my regards to Johnny,” I tell his corpse sarcastically.
The war is over. My knees shake with exhaustion and I nearly collapse right there. We won. We did it. My thoughts are immediately with Alessandro. I need to get to the hospital now and make sure he’s okay. I need to find Matteo and Bella and the twins?—
“Miss DeLuca!” One of my soldiers bursts through the doorway, his face urgent. “Federal vehicles—at least a dozen surrounding the compound. FBI, ATF, probably Homeland Security.”
Fuck. Our real problems are just beginning.
“And there’s something else…” the soldier continues.
My head snaps in his direction. “What? What do you mean?”
The soldier’s face is white. “News helicopters. This whole battle has been broadcast live across the city. Every major network is covering it.”
My exhaustion immediately takes a backseat. You’vegotto be kidding me. This has Dominic Calabrese’s sticky fingers written all over it.
Even in death he’s still trying to fuck with me.
Sirens sound and I rush to the windows. Through the shattered glass, I can see what he means. Black vehicles with government plates are forming a perimeter around the compound, and teams in federal gear are taking positions that suggest they’re preparing for a siege rather than arrests. But above them, helicopters circle like vultures, their searchlights and cameras recording everything.
