17. Tommy
TOMMY
The bruises on my face are still fresh and visible. I wonder if the Carvels will connect the dots or if they’re too idiotic to do even that.
I wait in the living room while Alessio greets them. Matteo and Lucas Carvel, along with three of their bodyguards and two more of their people, a woman and another man, neither of which I know their names. Frankly, I’m surprised they even have this many people left.
“Where is Carmine?” Matteo asks immediately. “I was told I would be talking directly to him.”
“He’s right over here, don’t worry,” Alessio insists, and guides the small group into the living room where all of us are sitting.
Tiberi, Carmine, Soren, Damian, and me. Cassian is with Nikolas and Beau, making sure they don’t get into any trouble while the Carvels are here. As much I’ve been training them over the last couple weeks, they aren’t ready to face these people.
“Ah, there you are,” Matteo says with his arms stretched wide out and Carmine gets up from his seat to walk over to him, kissing him on both cheeks and touching his arm lightly.
The sight makes my stomach churn. I hate the idea of even playing house with these people, much less trying to get them to agree to be on our side.
“Why are you here?” I ask point blank.
“Your brother invited us here,” Lucas says with a hint of irritation. “Why wouldn’t we come?”
“Because you’re making deals with the Bianchi,” I say frankly. “Why would you need to talk to us?”
“Tommaso,” Carmine mumbles. “What my brother means is…you’re currently engaged in conversation with one of our enemies, but we would very much like to change that.”
“That is why we are here, to hear what you have to offer,” Matteo insists with a smile on his face.
Lucas doesn’t smile though. His face remains flat and disinterested. The three guards and two other people with them stand behind them, looking prepared to do whatever they’re told to do.
“Who are the others you brought with you?” Tiberi asks from where he sits. “Why don’t they have a seat?”
“Yes, why don’t we all have a seat.” Carmine motions them toward the large couches and chairs nearby. I remain standing with my arms folded in front of one of them.
“That won’t be necessary,” Matteo insists. “I’ve brought three of my guards with me, and two of my finest inner circle. Daniella and Geoff.”
Daniella and Geoff give a slight glance at the rest of us, but don’t say anything else. “They’re here to ensure everything goes as planned.”
I bite my tongue. I want to ask them what exactly their plan is. Because it sure as hell can’t be to talk with us.
“Alright,” Carmine agrees. “First we need to know just how much money you’re expecting from the Bianchi’s and what you’re offering them in return.”
Matteo chuckles. “As if you don’t know. You’ve clearly been spying on us as much as we’ve been tailing you.” He pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket anyway.
Suddenly, I realize that Alessio didn’t insist they hand over their weapons. Do they all still have their guns? Why would he do that?
I glance toward Alessio, and he has an uncertain look on his face. He’s too far away for me to talk to me.
Does he suspect the same thing I do? That they didn’t come to talk, but to fight? If he does, why wouldn’t he take their guns?”
“By the way, thank you for trusting us enough not to strip us of our protection,” Matteo says.
Carmine nods slowly. “Of course. We would expect the same had we met at your estate.”
Now I understand…my brother is a fucking idiot, not the Carvels. Carmine believes if we show them we trust them and let them keep their weapons they might actually agree to side with us. That they might actually not take the Bianchi’s money and fight against us.
Matteo hands Carmine the paper. While he’s doing so, I get a glance at the watch on his right hand. It’s platinum, shiny, and most certainly new. In fact, Matteo’s entire outfit looks freshly pressed and there’s not a single stain, rip, tear, or sign of wear in it.
His entire little crew is wearing brand new clothing. Right down to their squeaky-clean shoes.
Motherfucker.
Carmine is looking at the piece of paper in his hand when I see Daniella reach for her side.
“Stop!” I push off from the chair I was leaning on and pull my gun out of its holster, aiming it right at Matteo.
“Tommaso, what are you doing?” Carmine asks me.
“They already took the money,” I say matter-of-factly.
“What is he talking about?” Matteo asks. “And why is he pointing his gun at me, that’s not very friendly is it?”
I put my finger on the trigger. “Look at their clothing. It’s brand new.
Matteo’s watch is new. Their shoes aren’t just shined, this is the first, maybe second, time they’re ever being worn.
I bet if I looked at the car they came in it would be new too.
You already took the money from the Bianchis, didn’t you, Matteo? ”
While I’m glancing at Carmine, Daniella takes this moment to actually pull her gun out and point it right back at me.
“Everyone, stop this,” Carmine insists. “Put your guns away.”
“No,” I say through gritted teeth. “We can’t trust them.”
“Is this true, Matteo, did you already take the money?” Carmine asks.
Matteo blinks and then laughs. I watch as Daniella’s finger slides onto the trigger. She’s confident, more confident than she should be in this situation.
“You really thought we would agree to take anything from you?” Lucas says with a sneer. “You’re disgusting.”
Carmine takes a step back and motions my brothers with one of his hands, not needing to say anything.
“Get out of our house,” Carmine demands.
I step closer to Matteo, my gun aimed directly at his head. His guards suddenly draw their guns and every single one is pointed at me. Goeff is the only one who hasn’t pulled his gun.
“You have five seconds,” I growl. “And then I blow your fucking head off.”
I see out of the corner of my eye Daniella’s finger twitch against the trigger, and I don’t take chances. In a split second, I have my gun on her and a bullet racing through the air. She’s struck directly in the chest and goes down against one of the guards behind her.
Suddenly, I’m not the only one shooting.
Goeff draws his gun and the second he does I hear my brothers’ guns go off.
Three bullets dive their way into his skull one after the other.
Blood splatters across the carpet and his body goes limp on the floor just next to Danilla, who is sputtering for breath.
Instead of leaving, instead of running as fast as they can out the front door and saving their own lives, Matteo, Lucas, and their three guards start to shoot.
A gun fight breaks out in less than ten seconds.
I dive to the side in front of Carmine, who for some reason doesn’t have his own gun on him.
Pain shoots through my left leg as a bullet buries itself in my calf and I grunt with the pain, but don’t go down. Nothing is going to get me down. Not while the Carvels are still up and standing.
I hear a familiar voice in the distance. Nikolas.
“Get out of here!” I shout in no particular direction. The last thing we need is them getting in here and causing trouble.
Nikolas doesn’t listen. I watch as he comes diving in and shoots out of the guards from behind. Beau is trailing close behind him.
I hear Tiberi’s voice from behind me. “On your right!”
I move to the left just before a bullet comes flying in my direction. It hits the couch, tearing the upholstery apart like nothing.
Cassian comes running in behind the younger boys. “I couldn’t keep them downstairs!” he shouts as he pulls his own gun out.
“Just don’t let them get killed!” Carmine hisses. I watch as my brother dives to the floor between the guards and Matteo and grabs one of the guns on the floor.
He shoots upward at Matteo who is just looking down and hits him square in the face.
Blood is everywhere in the living room. Not a single thing is safe from the spatter of crimson.
I look up just in time to see Nikolas grabbed by Lucas, and a gun pointed to his head. “No!” I shout. It’s too late. Lucas shoots Nikolas straight through his head, and his blood covers his Armani suit in a stain that likely will never come out of the new fabric.
My heart stops in my chest; but my voice isn’t the loudest.
Beau screams in anger and rushes Lucas from behind.
Everything is a blurry mess as the bullet wound to my leg starts to pour blood all over the rug. The pain nearly brings me to my knees as the numbness of surprise starts to wear off. I’ve been shot before, but after the beating I took just last night, I’m not doing my best.
“Tommy!” I hear his voice.
Aleksandr.
“Alek, no,” I mumble as I start to sink toward the ground as another bullet grazes my shoulder. I feel hands on my shoulders and arms, and at first, I think it’s my brothers helping me up to keep fighting, but the hands pull me toward the exit of the living room.
“Let go of him!” Alek growls, but it’s too late. There are too many people shooting in the small room, too much bloodshed, too much adrenalin.
Before Alek can get to me, I’m being dragged out of the front door by two people who must have snuck in in the middle of the gun fire.
The door slams closed and I hear gunfire muffled behind it, just before something sharp is stabbed into my neck, and everything goes dark.