Chapter 39 Gio #2
I pivot, ducking behind a forklift as the first shot rings out. The bullet ricochets off metal, sending sparks flying. Viktor's driver, a broad-shouldered man with a military haircut, disappears between containers, hunting me.
I steady my breathing, trying to listen for him.
I rise slightly, aiming around the edge of my cover.
The driver spots me first. His gun flashes.
Fire tears through my left forearm. The bullet rips through muscle, sending white-hot pain shooting up to my shoulder. "Fuck!" I growl, dropping back behind cover.
Blood seeps through my sleeve, warm against my skin.
Instinctively, I check the wound, a through-and-through.
Painful, but I'll live. I flex my fingers, making sure everything still works.
I haven't been shot in some time, and I forget how much it hurts.
But I push the pain away, focusing my rage on what I'm here to do.
Besides, I don't have a choice. The driver is coming for me.
I switch my gun to my right hand. As his footsteps come closer, I roll to the side, rising into a crouch. He appears in my sights, surprise registering on his face.
I pull the trigger.
One.
Two.
Three.
My bullets find their target. Two rip through the center of his chest, the third through his throat. He drops like a stone, gurgling as blood fills his lungs. His gun clatters across the concrete floor.
I press my back to a container, tearing a strip from my shirt to wrap around my wounded arm. The makeshift bandage won't stop the bleeding completely, but it'll do for now.
A sound outside catches my attention—metal scraping against metal. I move toward one of the small windows, staying in shadow. Outside, Viktor is frantically trying to open the Bentley's door. His hands shake as he pulls at the handle, looking over his shoulder for pursuers.
I smile grimly. The car's locked, and judging by the way he's cursing in Russian, his driver has the keys.
Then gunfire erupts. Viktor ducks and makes his way back toward me.
Ares is pushing him back inside, back to me.
Viktor realizes this too. His head whips toward the warehouse, understanding his only way out is through me.
I duck as he fires wildly toward the window. Glass shatters, raining down in crystalline shards over my head. I turn and run to hide behind a container.
"You think you can hide from me, you Italian piece of shit?" he shouts, his thick accent curling the words.
I continue moving silently between containers, tracking his voice. He's ducking behind a wooden crate near the main doors, foolishly believing I'm across from him.
"That bitch belongs to me," he calls, firing another shot through some crates. "Her father promised her. A debt must be paid."
Something snaps inside me. The thought of Raven being touched by this piece of shit makes my vision blur with fury.
"She's mine," I snarl, loud enough for him to hear. "And you'll pay for even daring to think otherwise."
His laugh is high-pitched as he fires in the direction of my voice, but I'm already on the move. "You stupid Italians. Always getting in the way. This is business."
I move closer, using the shadows to my advantage. "It's not just about her or her gallery that you had burned down. You made it personal when you went after my brother. My family."
"Your brother should have stayed out of politics," Viktor spits. "Fuck your brother. And the gallery?" he says, laughing. "That whore needed to learn her place."
I breathe deeply, channeling my rage.
Another round of bullets sprays in my direction. Viktor's aim is wild, panicked now. I hear the click of an empty chamber, followed by a flow of Russian words. He's out of ammo.
I step out from behind the container, gun aimed at his chest. He fumbles with a spare clip, his hands shaking so badly he drops it.
"You won't kill me," he says, raising his hands. "You know what will happen—"
I squeeze the trigger. The bullet tears through his right kneecap.
Viktor screams, a sound of pure agony that fills the warehouse. He collapses, clutching at his shattered knee, blood pouring between his fingers.
"What?" I ask, walking closer. "I'll make sure you're never found. Nothing will happen. They won't risk acknowledging you. Shit, I'm not even going to take whatever it is you're moving here. Just you."
His face contorts with pain and hatred. "Fuck you," he spits. "You have no idea who you're dealing with."
I aim my gun at his other knee. "Neither do you."
The second shot is as precise as the first. His left kneecap explodes in a mist of blood and bone fragments. His scream is even louder this time, raw like a wounded animal.
I stand over him, watching as he thrashes on the concrete floor, blood pooling beneath his ruined legs.
"Let me explain something to you, Viktor." I kneel down beside him, my voice deadly calm. "The Bonventis aren't just another family. We're a legacy. We're THE family. We're strength, honor, and loyalty. Things you could never understand."
He tries to crawl away, leaving a trail of blood. I press my foot on his back, pinning him in place.
"You don't fuck with my family. You don't touch what's mine. You don't breathe near what's mine. You don't even think about what's mine." I press the barrel of my gun against the back of his head. "This is for Marco. For Raven. For thinking you could ever fuck with the Bonventis and live."
"Please," he whimpers, all bravado gone. "We can make a deal. You can have the girl."
"I already have her." I lean closer. "But here's a bet I can make. Ten million dollars says I'm the last face you'll ever see."
Desperate pleas flow from his mouth in both Russian and English, but it's all gibberish to me. There's nothing he can say or do.
I'm ending his life.
I stand, aiming my gun one last time at his head. "Give my regards to the devil."
I pull the trigger, and Viktor's body goes still, blood spreading in a halo around his head.
I stare down at him, feeling nothing but cold satisfaction. The pain in my arm returns, throbbing in time with my heartbeat.
"It's done," I say into my comm.
"Cleanup?" Ares's voice replies.
"Yeah." I holster my weapon. "I'm heading out."
As I walk toward the door, I think of Raven waiting for me. Of the future we'll build together, a future that no one will threaten again.