21. Maxim
MAXIM
The bar door explodes inward as we burst through it.
Michael is right beside me, gun already drawn. Six of my most trusted soldiers fan out behind us, weapons raised.
The dim lighting and haze of cigarette smoke make the scene inside crystal clear in a single heartbeat.
Three senior Lentini men are sitting at a back table with four of my own generals, men I have fought beside for years.
Bottles of vodka and plates of food are scattered across the table. They look comfortable…
Way too comfortable.
I know exactly what is going down.
One of my generals—Marko, a man I once trusted with my life—looks up and pales. The Lentini men reach for their weapons.
“It’s over, Maxim,” Marko says, voice steady but his hand trembling slightly on the table. “The Lentini family is taking over. With the cartel behind them. Forgive me, but you cannot win this.”
The words land like a betrayal I have been half-expecting but still cuts deep. I raise my pistol, aiming straight at him.
“You will die for this betrayal,” I say coldly. “You and every other treacherous piece of shit at this table.”
“No, it is you who will die,” Marko says, a scowl on his face as chaos erupts.
Gunfire explodes through the bar. My soldiers open fire immediately. The Lentini men are fast, but not fast enough. One of them gets off a shot that shatters a bottle behind the bar before a bullet from Michael takes him in the chest. He collapses backward, blood spraying across the table.
I move forward, firing twice.
One of my former generals dives for cover, but I track him and put two rounds into his back. He crumples. Another general tries to run for the back exit. I shoot him in the leg, dropping him, then finish him with a bullet to the head as he tries to crawl away.
The Lentini capo at the table pulls a pistol and fires wildly. A bullet grazes my shoulder, burning like fire, but I do not stop. I put three rounds into his chest, watching him slump over the table, dead eyes staring at nothing.
Michael is a machine beside me, dropping another traitor with precise shots.
My soldiers clear the room with ruthless efficiency. Bottles shatter. Tables overturn. Screams from civilians in the bar are drowned out by the thunder of gunfire. One of my men takes a hit to the arm but keeps fighting.
In less than thirty seconds, it is over.
The bar falls silent except for the groans of the dying and the distant wail of approaching sirens.
Blood pools on the floor, mixing with spilled vodka.
Bodies lie slumped across tables and on the ground.
I step over one of my former generals and put a final bullet in the head of the last surviving Lentini man who is still twitching.
Michael moves quickly, rifling through the pockets of one of the dead Lentini men. He pulls out a phone and hands it to me.
I dial the last number called. Paolo answers on the second ring…
“Paolo,” I growl.
“Maxim,” Paolo says, voice smooth but I can hear the tension underneath. “I assume this means my men failed.”
“You are a dead man,” I tell him, voice ice-cold. “I am coming for you. And when I find you, I will make sure you suffer before I put a bullet in your head.”
Paolo laughs, but it sounds forced. “We will see who finds who first.”
I hang up and crush the phone under my heel.
The bar is a slaughterhouse, but we have won this round. I turn to my men.
“Clean it up. No traces. Then we go to war.”
Michael meets my eyes. “Milo?”
“I need to have him with me,” I say. “Right now we don’t know who we can trust. Lentini will come for Milo, and I need my boy closer than ever before…”
I meet Milo at the city limits, the sky above painted in soft pinks and golds that feel almost mocking given the blood on his clothes and the fear etched across his face.
The SUV pulls up beside the sedan he drove back in. Milo steps out looking pale and shaken, blood still staining his clothes from Kobek’s wound. The sight of him like that—frightened, exhausted, but alive—hits me harder than any bullet ever has.
I cross the distance in three strides and pull him into my arms. My darling boy buries his face in my chest, trembling.
“I’ve got you,” I murmur into his hair, holding him tight. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”
He clings to me, breathing shakily. “Kobek… he was shot. I got him to the hospital but I don’t know if he’s going to make it. He told me to leave him, but I couldn’t just…”
“Shh,” I soothe, stroking his back firmly. “You did the right thing. I have already sent men to the hospital. They will bring him home at the earliest opportunity. He is tough. He will fight.”
Milo nods against my chest, but I can feel him still shaking. I pull back just enough to look at his face, wiping a smear of blood from his cheek with my thumb.
“We are not going to the apartment,” I tell him. “We are going to the hidden floor of the department store. You will be safe there until this is over. No one outside my inner circle even knows it exists.”
Milo nods again, trusting me completely. “Okay. I trust you.” He pauses, then adds quietly, “I think my uncle might have had something to do with my father’s death. I remembered something from when I was a kid… a phone call I overheard. It sounded like he was planning something.”
I glance at my boy, not surprised. “I was beginning to think that myself. Michael is looking into it. We will know soon.”
I help Milo into my car, sliding in behind the wheel. As we drive toward the department store, I wrap my arm around his shoulders and pull him close. He shivers against me. I hug him tighter, one hand on the wheel, the other holding my sweet boy as if I can shield him from the entire world.
The final confrontation with Paolo is approaching.
And I know now more than ever that I cannot lose.