Chapter 37
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Matteo
The second the Brotherhood crashes through the door I'm already moving, my body responding to training that's been drilled into me since I was old enough to throw a punch.
Enzo comes in first with his weapon up and his eyes scanning for threats, and Rafael is right behind him with that wild grin on his face that appears whenever violence is about to happen.
Dante slips in along the wall with his gun steady and his movements precise, and Luca is covering our six.
The basement erupts into chaos faster than I can track.
Emilio's men are pouring out of doorways I didn't even know existed, their weapons coming up to meet my brothers’ as they spread out across the space.
The air fills with the sound of gunfire so loud it makes my ears ring, and the smell of cordite burns my nose and throat.
I dive for the gun Lorenzo dropped, my fingers closing around metal that's still warm from his grip.
A bullet smashes into the concrete next to my head and stone chips spray across my face hard enough to draw blood, but I'm already rolling to the side and coming up in a crouch with Lorenzo's gun pointing at the nearest threat.
One of Emilio's soldiers is aiming at Enzo's back and I put two rounds in his chest before he can pull the trigger, watching him drop like someone cut his strings. The body hits the floor with a thud I barely hear over the continuing gunfire.
Lorenzo is scrambling toward Alessia and I can see the rage on his face, can see his hands reaching for her throat again. My body moves before my brain finishes processing the threat and I cross the distance between us in three long strides.
I grab Lorenzo by the back of his collar and haul him away from Alessia hard enough that fabric tears and he stumbles backward into me. My arm comes around his throat in a chokehold that cuts off his air immediately, and I can feel him clawing at my forearm, trying to break free.
Every instinct I have is screaming at me to just tighten my grip and be done with it, to crush his windpipe and watch him choke the same way he choked Alessia on that balcony. It would be so easy and nobody here would stop me. Part of me wants it so badly I can taste it.
"You put your hands on her again and I'll break every bone in your body before I let you die." The words come out rougher than I intend because I'm fighting the urge to just end him right now.
He tries to speak but only manages a strangled sound that might be my name or might be a curse. His hands scrabble at my arm with weakening strength and I can feel his pulse hammering under my forearm.
I release the chokehold and shove him forward hard enough that he stumbles and goes down on his knees, coughing and gasping for air.
My hand finds the knife Enzo gave me before we came in here because he knew I wouldn't walk into a fight actually unarmed even if I had to hide the weapon well enough to pass a pat-down.
The blade slides free of its sheath with a soft sound and Lorenzo's eyes go wide when he sees it. He scrambles backward on his hands and knees, trying to put distance between us.
"Wait—wait, Romano, we can work something out—" His voice comes out ragged and desperate, and he's holding one hand up like that's going to stop me. "Money, territory, whatever you want—"
This damned son of a bitch spent months terrorizing Alessia, and now he thinks he can buy his way out. It would be hilarious if the rage inside of me wasn't burning so hot I can barely think straight.
"There's nothing you have that I want." I move toward him and he tries to scramble away faster but his back hits the wall. "Except watching you die."
Just then, his hand comes up fast and catches me in the throat with more strength than I expected from someone who just got choked half unconscious. I choke and my grip loosens for a second, and that's all he needs to shove me back and scramble to his feet.
He lunges for a gun, but I'm faster. My hand closes around his ankle and I yank hard enough to send him sprawling face-first onto concrete.
He kicks back at me and his heel catches my ribs hard enough to make me grunt, but I don't let go. I drag him away from the gun and flip him over, my knee coming down on his chest to pin him in place.
"Get off me!" He's thrashing now, hands clawing at my face, my arms, anything he can reach. "Get the fuck off—"
"This is for Alessia." I grab his wrist with my free hand and pin it to the floor, then bring the knife down.
He sees it coming and tries to twist away but there's nowhere for him to go with my weight holding him down. The blade goes in under his ribs at an upward angle, sliding between bone with practiced ease, and I feel the moment it finds his heart from the way his whole body goes rigid.
His mouth opens and closes like he's trying to speak but only a wet gurgling sound comes out. Blood bubbles up from his lips and runs down his chin, and his eyes are wide and panicked as he realizes this is really happening.
I hold him there and watch the light fade from his eyes, watch him try to breathe around the blood filling his lungs, watch the exact moment when he stops fighting and goes still.
I pull the knife free and let him fall back against the concrete. His eyes are still open and staring at nothing, and blood spreads slowly across the floor beneath him.
"You killed my son."
The voice comes from the doorway and when I turn, Emilio stands there with his gun already raised and aimed at my chest. His face has gone completely white except for two spots of red high on his cheeks, and his whole body is shaking with rage.
The gunshot is so loud in the enclosed space that my ears ring immediately.
Fire tears across my upper arm and I feel blood start to run hot down my sleeve, but it's a graze rather than a direct hit.
The impact still spins me slightly and pain flares sharp enough to make me suck in a breath through my teeth.
"You think you can just walk into my operation and kill my son?" Emilio's voice echoes off the concrete walls and he's moving closer now, the gun steady despite the rage making his hands shake. "You think there are no consequences for that?"
I press my hand against the wound and blood seeps between my fingers but it's not the arterial spray that would mean I'm in real trouble. The arm still works even if it hurts like hell.
"Matteo!" Alessia's voice cuts through the ringing in my ears and I can hear the panic in it, can hear her struggling against the zip ties still holding her to that chair. "Matteo, please—"
"Shut up." Emilio doesn't even look at her. "You'll watch him die first, and then we'll discuss what happens to you."
I can hear gunfire still echoing from somewhere in the building where my men are fighting off what's left of Emilio's soldiers.
"Seventeen years I've been building toward this moment.
" Emilio is closer now, maybe ten feet away, and I can see satisfaction mixing with the rage on his face.
"Seventeen years since I put a bullet in your father's back and watched him bleed out on that floor. You were just a boy then, weren't you?"
Hearing him say it out loud makes me seventeen again for a second, kneeling in my father's blood while he tried to tell me something through the gurgling in his throat. I was powerless then and all I could do was hold him while he died and promise him I'd make this right.
"I'm going to enjoy this." Emilio raises the gun slightly, adjusting his aim from my chest to my head. "I'm going to put a bullet right between your eyes and watch you drop while your little whore watches. Then I’ll decide what to do with her."
"No!" Alessia is screaming now and I can hear her throwing herself against the restraints hard enough that the chair is rocking. "No, please, don't—"