25. Chapter 25
Chapter 25
Dominic
T hree—the Kozlovas killed three of my soldiers.
My father and I stop for a moment to look at their lifeless faces as Marco runs to start our car.
“Good men,” my father whispers. I nod in agreement. The conversations with their families won’t be easy. I know one got married a few months ago. The compensation the wife will receive won’t replace her dead husband.
Bones weary as the adrenaline of the fight wears off, I force myself to the passenger side of the waiting Mercedes. Lorenzo and Dante load up the car in front of us, sprawling Lucas across the back seat.
“Dominic, we’ve got an issue.” I almost forgot that Leo is still connected to us by our earpieces, so I flinch when he speaks. “Alexsey is at Il Palazzo.”
“ What ?” What the fuck kind of suicidal jackass runs into enemy territory during a ground war?
“That’s not all. Two of his men are in a shoot-out in the theater with our guys. The audience is panicked and fleeing. It’s pure chaos. ”
My veins run cold as the implication of his words sinks in. “I don’t give a fuck about the audience. What about the dancers?”
“I’m watching the security tapes and don’t see Cassandra yet. She was on stage when all this happened.”
“Someone needs to fucking find her! Call her, tell her there’s an emergency exit hidden under the stage. Get her out of there!”
“Um, Dominic,” Lucas says, his voice tense as he fights the pain in his leg. “I have Cassandra’s phone in my pocket. I never had time to give it back to her.”
I tear my fingers through my hair as I throw myself into the car. “Fuck!”
“I see her,” Leo says. “She’s with her bodyguards. They’re escorting her through the back hallways.” Static swallows his voice as we drive.
“Everyone get to Il Palazzo. This ends now.”
We lose connection as I scrub a hand over my weary eyes. My body disconnects from my mind as I run on adrenaline and the frantic urge to kill my opponent.
He murdered my men and went after my woman. A quick death isn’t enough for him. He deserves to be cut to pieces, one slice at a time.
My leg bounces with anxiety and my hands shake in fury through the short drive to Il Palazzo. Marco turns into the garage so fast that we fishtail, tires screeching, before we fly down the ramp and slam to a halt. I’m out of the car before Marco parks.
“Where is she?” I snap, finding Leo waiting by the elevator.
“We lost sight of her.” He has the audacity to look apologetic, but at this moment, I want to strangle him. “Alexsey got into the hallways before she could escape. She and her guards had to run into the theater. We haven’t seen her come out. ”
“ Fuck ! What about Alexsey?” I step around Leo, jamming the elevator button repeatedly as Marco catches up and holds his key card to the reader.
Leo’s jaw clenches, causing my fingers to curl into a fist. God, what I wouldn’t give to punch him in the face. “He went toward the theater. We sent men in his direction, but they got locked in a gun battle,” he says. “Dominic, don’t look at me like that. I’m only the messenger.”
Marco and I slam into the elevator before the doors fully open.
“Our Romano associates are working to handle the Bratva, but we had to keep Il Palazzo security on the floor to calm the crowd. Patrons are calling 911 You’ve got minutes before the cops arrive.”
The elevator doors close in Leo’s face while I glare him down.
He’s right. He’s just the messenger.
In my state of mind, one in which my demons have taken control, it doesn’t matter. I’m craving blood and destruction.
“You want to go through the front of the theater or the back?” Marco asks, reloading one of his guns.
“You go through the front, I’ll go through the back. We can take them from both angles.”
The elevator opens, and we take off, throwing open the door of the private lobby so hard the hinges crack in protest. Pandemonium swallows the casino. My security team peppers the floor, assuring our patrons there’s nothing to worry about. I don’t hear gunshots, but I have no idea what happened ten minutes ago. I swerve around a group of girls with cell phones out, texting, recording, and posting the ordeal to social media. Shit, we have serious damage control to do.
One of my associates spots me running to the employee halls and pulls the door open, allowing me through. Once I enter, I slow, understanding that there could be a threat around every corner.
Flattening myself against the wall, I draw my weapon and lift it so the sights match my eyeline. I step forward, slinking down the hallway, my footsteps quiet but steady.
At the first turn, I hesitate as a muffled pop echoes off the walls—a gun fired with a silencer. Two of my men call to each other, confirming a kill. Stepping around the edge, I reveal myself.
Two Romano associates, young men who I do not know by name, hover over the bodies of a pair of Russians. “Mr. Tariello.” The man closest to me looks up wide-eyed when he hears my footsteps.
“Good aim.” Leaning down, I check the pulses of the men sprawled across the floor. “Get them down to the basement, and tell cleanup to get in here and get rid of the evidence. Where is the rest of your team?”
“They went through the theater. Word was Alexsey Kozlova headed that way. Last we heard, the space was cleared, and our guys were regrouping in the lobby.”
I nod, waving toward the bodies and spurring them to get to work. “Have you spotted more Bratva soldiers?”
“Kozlova had a few with him. We think they fled.”
Lifting the weight of the dead men in a fireman’s carry, my soldiers turn toward the hidden elevator bank past the swinging double doors that lead to the Mare Di Sicilia kitchen. When this is over, I will have a hoard of employees to pay off for their silence.
I move forward, slinking around the next corner, gun raised and ready for attack.
The hallway is empty .
As I continue, air flows from my lungs in a slow exhale. My pulse pounds in my ears, and my vision laser focuses down the hall.
There’s one more turn. One that will reveal me to the hallway behind the theater, where Alexsey may be waiting to take me down.
I close my eyes, gathering every bit of strength and confidence before inching around the final obstacle, my finger ready to curl around the trigger.
No one.
The only noise comes from my heavy breathing as I scan the area, whipping my gun from one side to the other.
Could Alexsey have left?
Did he find Cassandra? Did he take her?
My muscles tense, and for a moment, I’m lost, unsure of my next move.
Then I hear it. A door creaking open. A deep chuckle and sarcastic applause.
“I thought you might win our hide-and-seek game.”
Alexsey .
I lift my gun, aiming it toward the dancers’ dressing room. Of fucking course. I blink, trying to get my eyes to focus on the sights of my gun. I’m running on too little sleep and too much adrenaline. My vision is shit.
“Put the gun down, Tariello,” Alexsey orders, causing me to scoff.
“Not happening, Kozlova.”
“Oh?” He laughs a demented cackle that echoes off the walls. “Look to your left.”
Fuck. I glance over, my gun swinging across the hall, as three Bratva soldiers filter out of a storage room, their weapons pointed at me .
Alexsey emerges, placing himself behind his men. “No matter what you do, you’re dead,” he says. “Shoot one, and another shoots you. You’re a gambling man, Tariello. Tell me, what would you call these odds?”
“And what if I just shoot you?” I ask, teeth clenched. “Then we both die. I like those odds better.”
“Drop your gun,” he sneers but ducks farther behind his guards. Pussy.
I’m fucked. There’s no way out of this mess. I consider shooting, going down with a fight. I’ll be dead, but hopefully, so will a couple of Russians.
Finger itching to pull my trigger, I mutter, “No dice, fucker.”
A bullet flies through the air, ripping through the skull of the man closest to the right. I blink in surprise as blood spurts from the gaping wound, spraying across Alexsey’s face and body.
It’s then I realize I never fired my gun.
A voice calls from down the hall, “One down. Three more.”
Marco.
With the Bratva pricks distracted, I turn and sprint, disappearing into the stairwell just before a bullet hits the corner of the drywall. I don’t flinch, taking the steps two at a time.
Alexsey calls out orders as his rapid footsteps chase me. I duck behind the thick cloth of the stage wings before he makes it to the stairwell’s landing.
The stage lights shine brightly, but I hide in the shadows, finding cover behind the backdrop. If I can use it as a shield until I reach the other side of the stage, I will have a good view from behind the giant lights on the floor. He won’t be able to see me well, and I can take my shot.
“Come out, Tariello,” he says as I slink by ropes and sandbags. “Or are you too much of a pussy to fight like a man? ”
I want to laugh—return the insult, but giving away my location would be stupid.
Spotting an enormous light between the backdrop and a curtain, I creep forward and squat behind it, waiting to see if I can spot my enemy. As I work to get my bearings, I notice movement downstage. A curtain sways before a shadowed figure passes to the next. I got him.
I lift my arms to aim, but I’m unsteady and crouched low, so I stand, hopeful that the light is blinding enough to hide my position. Dipping my head, I focus through my sights but find the picture in front of me blurring.
Letting out a soft curse, I squat again and rub a hand across my eyes. It’s the lack of sleep. I can’t focus. I can try to aim blindly, but if I miss, I’m fucked.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” Alexsey taunts. He’s between the second to last curtains. I have to stand; I’ll have a perfect shot when he crosses the next section of the wings. Getting to my feet, I attempt to line up my sights again, fighting disorientation.
Then he’s there. The black outline of his silhouette stands directly across from me. I can’t wait. I won’t have another chance like this.
I fire, my palm absorbing the kickback as a bullet rips through the air. I hold my breath for the split seconds it takes for the metal to completely miss my target and tear through a curtain.
Fuck .
A maniacal laugh breaks from Alexsey as I turn, ready to run downstage. It’s too late.
I hear the shot a second before a searing pain spreads through my right shoulder. My gun falls from my grip, sliding away, as I stumble, grunting in agony.
“Gotcha. ”
Dizzy and in shock, I’m exposed. I grasp for the backup gun at my ankle with my left hand, the pain from twisting my body making my fingers weak.
“Oh, how my uncle will love this.” Alexsey approaches slowly, gun raised and aimed at my head. “Any last words, Mr. Tariello?”
My chest heaves as I make a final attempt to pull my extra gun from its holster. I’m increasingly vulnerable as blood pours from the wound to my shoulder.
“Fuck you,” I spit in a growl. The insult is all I have left. My eyes slip closed as I accept this is the end.
“Do svidaniya .” Alexsey spits a sardonic farewell.
With a shuddering breath, I close my eyes, my thoughts filled with last-minute amends to my family, the men who entrusted me to lead them, and most of all Cassandra, whom I failed to protect.
Heels click on the floor to my left, and my eyelids snap open as Alexsey’s head lifts, assessing the new threat.
Then, silver dress sparkling in the light, Cassandra steps forward, my discarded Smith and Wesson held high, her arms steady, and her vision locked on her target.
“Ah, kulkoka .” Alexsey grins, aiming in her direction. “Two for one.”
His finger moves to the trigger as a guttural roar rips from deep inside me.
“ Cassandra, no! ”
Nausea rolls through my gut as gunpowder explodes, and a deafening bang reverberates throughout the theater.