Page 79 of His Assistant

“Same result.”

Sofia’s fingers tighten in my shirt. She looks from Calderone to Tomasso, and I feel the moment she understands.

“Tomasso,” I say.

He finally turns to me. “You were going to destroy us.”

“That’s your defense?”

“You made yourself weak,” he snaps. “For her. For a baby you didn’t even plan.”

Sofia goes still.

Calderone watches us with open enjoyment.

“Enough,” I say.

“No,” Tomasso says, and something desperate enters his voice. “You can still make a deal. Enzo is willing to negotiate.”

I almost laugh. “A deal.”

“With him.” Tomasso gestures toward Calderone. “You give him territory. Ports. The lending channels. Whatever he wants. You keep the girl and the baby.”

Sofia makes a small, wounded sound. I step forward.

“And you just get, what? The satisfaction of pulling one over on me?”

“No, Dominic. I want the business. And if you don’t step aside, I’ll have Enzo kill your precious little girlfriend and your bastard.”

I raise the gun and shoot him in the chest, without hesitation or warning.

Tomasso staggers back, eyes wide with shock. He looks down at the blood spreading across his shirt, then back at me. He clearly didn’t think I had it in me. Guess he’s not the only one capable of betrayal.

His mouth opens. Nothing comes out. He drops to the floor. Sofia gasps behind me. I don’t take my eyes off of Calderone.

“Family,” Calderone says softly. “Messy, isn’t it?”

“You have no idea.”

His smile fades. The two men beside him raise their guns. The room explodes.

Bradley fires first. I pull Sofia down behind the heavy table as bullets tear into wood and glass. The decanter shatters. Liquor splashes across the floor. Sofia covers her head with both arms, but she stays low.

I shoot one man through the throat when he moves too far into the doorway. Bradley takes the other in the shoulder, then again in the chest.

Calderone disappears into the hall. I am up before the last body hits the floor.

Sofia grabs my wrist. “My dad.”

“I’ll get him.”

“I’m coming.”

“No.”

Her face goes red with anger. I don’t back down.

“No,” I repeat. “I need you alive.”