Tires screech behind us. Tommy pulls up in his Escalade and climbs out, taking in the scene.
“Aurelio?” he asks quietly.
“Has to be.” I glance at the Arsenal. The roof is caving in now, flames shooting through. “Rocco fed him the intel. He’s the only one who knew my connection to Sophie outside of us and this was the one place connected to her or me with no guards.”
“It’s a desperate move. It shows he’s losing and knows it,” Matti says. “He needs you gone. If you’re gone, the war’s over.”
“Why not hit Sophie’s house?” Tommy frowns. “That’s where Vin actually sleeps.”
“Assumes there’s guards,” Matti says. “Assumes it’s fortified. This?” He gestures at the restaurant. “Civilian target. No defenses. Easy hit.”
I watch Sophie talking quietly with her father, her hand in his, the shock blanket slipping off her shoulders.
The truth settles over me like concrete.
As long as I’m in the life, boss or not, I’m a target. Even if I walked away tomorrow, Aurelio or whoever comes next would hunt me down for insurance. If I take out Aurelio and take his spot, I’m the target not just of people in the organization who want my job but other organizations who want to take us down.
Which means as long as Sophie’s with me, she’s a target too.
I look at the burning restaurant. Her dream, her home, gone because of me.
I turn to my brothers, their faces grim in the firelight.
“Aurelio dies now,” I say quietly.
Matti nods once, sharp and final.
Tommy’s jaw sets. “About fucking time.”
Sophie looks over at me. Our eyes meet across the space between us. She doesn’t know what we’re planning or the choice I’m about to make, but she will. Soon.
The Arsenal collapses inward with a roar of flame and timber, launching sparks into the sky.
Now that Aurelio has targeted Sophie, he’s done. Either he’s dead by the end of the week or I am.
43
Vin
Dr. Rossi’s hands are steady as he examines the gash on Sophie’s temple, but mine won’t stop shaking. I shove them in my pockets so no one sees, not Matti watching me with those calculating eyes, not Tommy pacing like a caged animal, and definitely not Sophie who’s gone quiet in a way that scares the shit out of me.
“It’s superficial,” Rossi says, dabbing antiseptic that makes her flinch. My hand goes to her shoulder before I can stop myself. “No concussion, but she’s in shock. Keep her warm, hydrated, and watch for delayed symptoms.”
Behind us, the Arsenal is still burning. The roof collapsed 20 minutes ago with a sound like the earth splitting open, taking Sophie’s dream with it. All because of me.
“Vin.” Matti’s voice cuts through the roar of flames and shouting firefighters. “We need to talk.”
I don’t move. No fucking way I’m leaving Sophie’s side. She’s sitting on the back of the ambulance, a silver blanket wrapped around her shoulders, soot smeared across her cheek, staring at the fire like it’s a funeral pyre. To her, it probably is.
“Vin,” Matti says again, louder.
“Not now.”
“Yes, now.” He grabs my arm and I rip away from him, my hand going to my gun before I remember where I am. Tommy steps between us, hands raised.
“Easy,” Tommy says. “We’re on the same side here.”
Are we? Because right now all I want to do is put a bullet in Aurelio’s skull and anyone else who had anything to do with this.
