I placed a hand on his shoulder. “You weren’t my soldier, Maxim. You were my brother. If there’s one thing I never doubted in this miserable world, it was your loyalty. We knew this might be the end. No one’s to blame.”
Maxim nodded, slow and reluctant, his face a mask of anguish.
I patted his shoulder and continued, “We had an incredible run, but every era, no matter how glorious, comes to an end. And we’re strong enough to face that. We can accept it.”
He nodded again, jaw clenched. “You’re right, boss. You’re always right.”
The sound of choppers filled the air. Every head turned toward the three black choppers descending in the distance.As they touched down, I saw Michael Giuliano, and every muscle in my body tensed. Finally, the last piece of the puzzle clicked into place, Giuseppe had allied himself with the Bruni family’s sworn enemy.
This was more than betrayal. It was a declaration of war.
THIRTY-FOUR
Emily
The sharp pain in my shoulder was unbearable, like fire searing through my flesh. I lay on my uninjured side, breathing shallowly, trying to dull the agony. The thunder of rotor blades filled the air, vibrating through the hard surface beneath me.
Squinting against the dim light, I tried to make sense of my surroundings. Several burly men in black tactical gearmoved briskly around me.
One of them grabbed my arm and yanked me up without a shred of care. A ragged cry ripped from my throatas pain exploded through my shoulder, but he didn’t even blink.
He dragged me out of the helicopter and toward a narrow staircase. The stench of mold and rot hit me as he forced me down the narrow, damp staircase. At the bottom, he shoved me into a small, grimy cell and slammed the metal door shut.
Clutching my shoulder, I cried out, the cold floor beneath me offering no relief. My mind reeled. What was happening? The last thing I remembered was Diablo... his teeth, the blood... then Carlo. Who were these men?
Fighting through the haze, I pushed myself into a sitting position. The only light came from a dim bulb overhead, casting eerie shadows on the stained concrete.
I crawled to the bars, gripping them tightly as I peered out into the corridor. Footsteps echoed, getting closer. My pulse spiked. I scrambled back to a corner, heart pounding.
Two figures appeared in the hallway. One was short and broad, the other tall and imposing. My vision swam, the dim light blurring everything, until the taller one spoke. “We need to get a doctor to check her.”
My breath hitched. That voice...
“Brando? Is that you?” I whispered, crawling forward, barely able to speak.
A flicker of light revealed their faces. My fleeting hope shattered. Standing beside him was Giuseppe.His stare was feral, aimed straight at me, a sinister grin curling his lips.
I turned to Brando, searching for any hint of reason, of protection, of the man I once trusted.
He smirked. “Yes, little bird. I’m here.”
Giuseppe unlocked the cell and stormed in. I scrambled backward, desperate to escape, but he was too fast. His hand clamped around my neck. Pain flared through my shoulder as I gasped, clawing at him, trying to breathe.
Brando followed him inside, his voice like ice. “I don’t think Carlo will trade himself for a corpse, Giuseppe. Get a grip.”
Giuseppe growled and finally let go. I gasped like a drowning woman breaking the surface, lungs clawing for breath. Tears streamed down my face as I curled into myself, overwhelmed by pain, fear, and the crushing realization of Brando’s betrayal. They left the cell without so much as a glance back.
I had no idea how long I lay motionless on the floor before the door opened again. This time, a man in a suit entered, carrying a medical bag, followed closely by Brando. The man knelt beside me and reached for my jacket. As he tried to take it off, I groaned in pain.
Brando snapped at him, “Careful! Can’t you see she’s hurt?”
The man pulled a syringe from his bag, moved my shirt collar aside, and injected something into my shoulder. Slowly, the pain began to dull, replaced by a heavy numbness. Breathing came easier.
He managed to remove my jacket and tug my shirt collar aside without making it worse, examined the wound, and finally said to Brando, “It doesn’t seem broken, but she’s lost a lot of blood. I’ll clean and stitch it, but she’ll need a transfusion. Do you know her blood type?”
I instinctively placed a hand on my stomach, wanting to ask about my baby, but before I could speak, Brando cut in. “No need. She’s going home tomorrow. She can get a full checkup then. Just make sure she survives the night.”
Despair surged through me. “Why are you doing this, Brando?” I whimpered. “Why did you betray Carlo? You were our brother.”
