With a shout, the man slams his fist against my throat, making me choke on air. He grabs the front of my shirt and yanks me off balance, rolling us so that he can pin me down instead.
I struggle to breathe, my lungs burning from lack of air and my throat aching so bad that my vision blurs.
The man points the gun at my forehead, but before his finger can even move to the trigger, I see a chair above him.
Dominik slams the chair he was sitting in against the man’s back with a shout.
I cover my face with my arms as the chair splinters into pieces, the legs clattering on the floor on either side of me.
The man slumps on top of me, knocked out cold.
“Bastard,” Dominik breathes out before kicking the man off me. He grabs my wrist and pulls me up, his other hand clamping down on my shoulder as we both catch our breath.
“Not done yet,” I tell him, hearing a report of enemies being pushed downstairs by our forces upstairs. The tide is turning up there, bringing the main fight to the foyer.
Dominik nods. “Let’s finish it then.”
Adrenaline was doing most of the work now for my brother. His body hadn’t realized yet how badly it was hurt.
I grab my gun off the floor and approach the doorway, peering through it into the foyer to see the Italians engaging in close combat with a mixture of Armenians and Irishmen. A few Bratva soldiers are in the mix, but I can hear more fighting in the nearby living room and kitchen.
Maximo fights with a man on the stairs, dodging punches and moving like a breeze. He thrusts his knee up against the man’s stomach before grabbing his shoulders and shoving him over the railing.
The man hits the floor on his head with acrack, his body remaining still in a crumbled pile.
Before Dominik and I can say anything, a broad-shouldered Irishman in a blood-covered white button-down kicks Maximo in the chest, knocking him down the stairs.
Maximo tumbles violently down the steps and lands hard on his shoulder at the bottom with a shout of pain.
“That’s Cormac Doyle, the Irish leader,” I tell Dominik once I get a better look at him. “We kill him, we end this!”
Dominik nods before speaking into the mic. “Cormac has been spotted coming down the stairs. Gavriil and I will handle him. The rest of you, pick off the remaining enemies.”
Together, we rush out of the dining room, dodging bullets fired across the room and sidestepping brawls until we’re right in front of Cormac.
He narrows his eyes at the sight of us and cracks his knuckles. “Finally. I’m going toburyboth of you.”
“You can fucking try,” Dominik growls before swinging at him first.
Cormac ducks under his arm and slams his fist against Dominik’s stomach, punching the air out of his lungs.
I retaliate and elbow Cormac in the nose, feeling the bone crack.
Cormac hisses in pain, but he’s resilient and barely stumbles back, even as blood pours from his nostrils. He kicks my gun out of my hand before backhanding Dominik, sending my brother into the wall.
Fuck, he won’t even let us catch our breath.
With a frustrated shout, I run at Cormac, driving him into the wall next to Dominik.
The back of Cormac’s head strikes the wall with a loudthud, making him grunt in pain.
Dominik stumbles to his feet just as I grab the front of Cormac’s shirt and drag him over to the doorway that leads down to the prison.
I shove him backward, making him fall down the first short flight of stairs.
Cormac crawls down the second flight that leads into the prison. He gets to his feet by the time Dominik and I head down the stairs. “Come on!”
Fury burns within me as I run at him first. I try to strike at his face, but he catches my fist in his hand.
