Leo
Ipush my limbs to extremes as I charge toward Natalia, already knowing I won’t get to her before the man bearing down on her does. I’m conflicted on what to do. If I tell her to run, he might shoot her. Yet, if I say nothing, she’s like a sitting duck. She takes the decision out of my hands, scrambling to her feet when she spots the man coming for her.
A shot rings out from the left, and Natalia screams, stumbling and swaying as she runs back in the direction of the house. One of our men, doing perimeter duty, steps forward and fires indiscriminately at the stranger; peppering the air with gunfire. The intruder drops to the grassy ground and rains a flurry of bullets at oursoldato. I curse under my breath as he drops like a fly, dead before he hits the ground.
The intruder wastes no time giving chase to Nat, and he gains ground fast while I race to catch up to him. Grabbing her from behind, he scoops her up into his arms. I’m not too far away now, and the man hasn’t noticed me yet. He’s too busy trying to contain the wriggling, writhing beauty in his arms as Nat gives him hell.
That’s my girl.
Ducking down, I grab the dead soldier’s gun, checking the rounds and creeping toward the asshole who dares to kidnap mydolcezza.
The asshole makes a hissing sound when Nat sinks her teeth into his arm, but he doesn’t lose his grip. I can’t contain my fury when he smashes the butt of his rifle into her temple. I snarl as I visualize snapping his neck for daring to harm her. Nat’s head lolls back as she instantly passes out. A strangled roar rips from my lips, destroying my element of surprise. The guy whips around, with Nat in his arms, pressing the muzzle of his gun into her head. “Make one move and I’ll kill her,” he threatens, his American drawl accentuated with a noticeable Italian twang.
“Touch one hair on her head, and it’ll be the last thing you do,” I coolly retort, pointing my gun at his skull.
“Just let us take her, and no one else has to die,” he adds, his dark, beady eyes flaring with recognition. “We won’t hurt her.”
“News flash, asshole,” I grit out. “You have already hurt her.”
“We mean her no harm. Once the boss gets what he wants, he’ll let her go.”
“You expect me to just let her walk away with you?” I want to keep him talking while I wait for him to make a mistake—to lower his gun from her head so I can take a clear shot and get rid of the problem.
“I don’t have time for this.” Swinging his gun around, he fires at me.
I can’t retaliate without risking injury to Natalia, so I dart sideways, throwing myself at the ground as the bullet whizzes toward me.
Pain explodes in my shoulder, and I grunt as I land heavily on the ground. Pain splinters up and down the left side of my body, and my fingers come away bloody when I touch my throbbing shoulder. Ignoring the pain, I scramble to my feet, watching the asshole run away with the girl who is my everything.
Gunfire is dying out in the background, and I hope that means we got the upper hand.
The guy continues running without looking back, assuming I’m out of action or dead. What an idiot. Every made man worth his salt knows you never turn your back on your enemy. Even if he appears to be down.
Both his hands are occupied holding Natalia as he runs, and his rifle is slung over one shoulder. I can’t shoot him in the obvious places without risking serious injury to Nat, so I do the only thing I can. I shoot him in the back of his calves. One bullet in each leg, and it’s enough to incapacitate him. Natalia goes flying out of his arms as he stumbles to the ground, and I curse as I run toward them.
I reclaim the distance between us before he’s had the time to grab his weapon. I press my foot down hard on top of his wrist as his fingers reach for the rifle, and the sound of bone crunching is hugely rewarding. I wish I could haul this asshole in for questioning and torture, but I need to attend to Natalia, and I can’t risk leaving him here for one of his goons to collect. I riddle his face with bullets and pump more in his chest, only leaving him when I’m assured he’s good and dead.
Scanning my surroundings, to ensure there are no more intruders hiding in the shadows, I scoop Nat into my arms, cradling her unconscious head against my chest as I run toward the house.
* * *
“Idiota!”Angelo storms into the room, like a black thundercloud, leveling furious eyes on his son. He was informed of the attack immediately by one of the men at the gate, and he wasted no time chartering a helicopter to bring him and Rosa home.
Rocco enters the office, followed by Angelo’s consigliere, Coppola; his underboss, Agosti; and three capos. They quietly close the door behind them. Angelo must have called his most trusted men while he was in the air, asking them to meet him here to discuss our next steps.
Don Mazzone punches Mateo in the nose before grabbing him by the shoulders and slamming him into the wall. Blood leaks from Mateo’s busted nose as his father glares at him with ill-concealed frustration.
Brando and I share a look. This isn’t the first time Angelo Mazzone has been angry and violent with his son, and I doubt it will be the last.
“What have I told you about throwing these parties?!” Angelo roars, keeping one hand around his son’s neck while he presses the butt of his gun into Mateo’s head. “When are you going to grow up and be the man I need you to be?!” Angelo presses the gun firmly into Mateo’s brow. “You are a constant disappointment to me, Mateo. And my patience is wearing thin.” Angelo backhands Mateo with the gun. Not enough to render him unconscious but enough to cause him pain. He shoves Mateo away before stalking to the side table propped up against the wall and pouring himself a whiskey. Mateo slumps against the wall, his face contorted in pain and his breathing heavy.
No one speaks as we wait for the don to speak. Tension bleeds into the air, mixing with the scent of death that drifts in from the open windows. Outside, men are clearing the dead bodies from the pool area and from the front of the house.
“We lost five good men today, Mateo, and they almost got to your sister,” Angelo’s voice is lowered, but there’s a sharp edge underscoring his tone. Angelo turns around as Mateo straightens up and his head dips low in shame. “You knew there was a threat after last Monday’s ambush, yet you ignored your responsibility to party and fuck whores.” He thumps his clenched fist down on top of his desk. “It ends now!” he yells, glaring at his only son and heir. He stalks toward him, gripping his chin in a tight hold. “Or I end you and consider my other options.”
Shock mixes with fear in Mateo’s eyes, and Brando and I shift uncomfortably.
“Yes, Mateo. You are not my only option,” he adds, shoving him away.
