Pavlov recoils instinctively, disoriented. He may not have gotten hit, but the explosion was right next to his ear, and his balance suffers for it.
That’s all Noah needs.
He jerks free and runs.
“Mom!”
Izzy catches him immediately, pulling him into her arms. “Baby!” She kisses his forehead, tears streaming freely. “I’m so sorry, oh my God, are you okay?—”
While Izzy takes care of Noah, I fire twice.
Both bullets shatter Pavlov’s knees.
He collapses to the concrete with a scream.
I press a button on my phone. Speak a single word into it. “Now.”
The doors burst open behind me.
Luca.
Riccardo.
Matteo.
Giovanni.
Their men flood the warehouse in seconds, guns raised. All their right arms except Lorenzo are there: Alberto, Valerio, Bruno—and of course, Leone.
Pavlov stares at them in disbelief.
“No,” he whispers.
I step toward him slowly.
“You wanted a war,” I say. Blood spreads beneath his legs. “You’ll never have it.”
The other Dons close in around us.
“This city isn’t divided anymore,” I continue. “Five families. Five boroughs.”
“One house,” Luca says quietly behind me.
“One mission,” Matteo adds.
“Protect what’s ours,” Riccardo finishes.
I stop in front of Pavlov.
“And right now,” Giovanni says softly, “you’re standing in our house.”
Pavlov’s composure finally cracks.
“Please,” he says hoarsely. “Neri?—”
Leone glances at me. “You want the honors?”
Pavlov’s voice breaks. “Wait?—”
