Chapter 18
VALENTINA
Screams tear through the crowd. Tables are toppled. Glasses fly, liquor and blood splashing everywhere.
“Come on,” Luca says and hurries me across the dance floor.
Fear tightens its noose around my neck, but I cling to my husband as we move farther away from the incoming danger. I catch glimpses of the shooters advancing through a rapidly thinning crowd. It’s a deluge of hysteria and paralyzing fear.
“Stay with me,” Luca says.
“Six of them!” one of our bodyguards calls out from somewhere nearby.
Everything happens so fast, I barely have a moment’s breath to register the details. I see Caroline and my stepfather running, then ducking for cover. Nicolo Gamberetti is on the floor, his wife crying on top of him.
“Nicolo!” she screams and wails until one of the gunmen reaches her. “No, please!”
Her plea for mercy falls on deaf ears as he pulls the trigger.
I whimper and hide my face in my husband’s chest for a few seconds, struggling to breathe as the horror unfolds.
“Spread out!” Luca shouts at the bodyguards.
Other men from the Camorra rise with weapons of their own.
The attackers are clad in black with balaclavas covering their faces. I only see their cold eyes, lit orange with every flash of their automatic weapons. Time stands still for what feels like a wretched eternity.
Luca fires a couple of shots while simultaneously holding me close. He shields me with his full frame. Bullets aimed at us from one angle hit one of the overturned tables; Luca covers the rest.
“My God, Luca!” I cry out, shaking in terror.
“I’ve got you,” he promises.
Then POP-POP.
Two more shots.
One of the attackers gets tackled by a Mancini. I see the glint of a knife driven right into his throat, the blood spraying as the sparkle of life drains from the man’s eyes.
“Flank them!” Luca shouts.
Our security crew is expert. They move like shadows around the scattering crowd until they flank the four men still standing. Two of them are busy changing the clips on their weapons, while the other two fire at will.
Only they’re not firing randomly, I quickly realize.
Luca’s men take the other two out with bullets to the head and torso, at least five or six in each. The other two are searching for particular targets and only shoot when they see them. To my horror, Carmine Caruso runs past us, only to be gunned down and fall flat on his face.
“Shit!” Luca mutters, then fires back.
He wings one of the remaining attackers. The other one gets a bullet in the back, then his neck snapped by the head of our security crew.
It’s over, but what’s left behind is beyond tragic.
Luca assesses the situation until the surviving lieutenants from the Camorra’s syndicates confirm that all the attackers are down. Only one survived, but he doesn’t look like he has long to live, as he lies on the beige marble floor, bleeding out.
The silence that descends on us in the aftermath is only cut by the sharp gasps and cries of those who have lost someone tonight. Yet in the midst of it all, I find strange relief in still being alive, in having had Luca by my side, protecting me the whole time as if nothing else mattered.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his worried eyes searching my face.
He puts his gun back in its holster hidden beneath his jacket, then gently touches me almost everywhere to make sure I wasn’t hurt. Aside from a few scrapes on my knees and elbows, however, I seem to be fine.
The adrenaline subsides, and I begin to shake like a leaf in the wind.
“I… I’m fine, I think,” I manage with my teeth chattering. “But what… what the hell…”
“It was a targeted hit,” our head of security says as he hurries over with a stern look on his face. “The Mancinis and the Collasimos have secured the whole place, but the cops will be here any moment now.”
“Of course,” Luca scoffs. “It’s not a party until the fucking police shows up to muddy everything up.” Then he realizes something. “Enzo,” he says, nervously looking around as I cling to him for dear life, my knees weak, my heart throbbing. “Where’s Nicolo Gamberetti?”
Enzo’s gaze drops for a moment. “He’s dead, Boss.”
“Carmine Caruso, too,” Luca sighs, nodding at his fallen friend. “Who else?”
“Two of the Mancinis’ higher-ups: Carlo Pendretti and Virgil D’Amico,” Enzo replies. “All lieutenants and high-ranking members.”
“And all of them allied with me,” Luca concludes, then looks around again, growing increasingly and understandingly aggravated. “Mancuso?”
“He made it out alive, along with his daughter.”
“The Caputos, too, I’m guessing.”
“We didn’t see them anywhere. But a lot of them ran out when the shooting started. We’ll need a proper head count before we draw any conclusions,” Enzo insists. “I saw a few of the Paoletti syndicate gunned down, too. Lower-level guys, but definitely Mario’s boys.”
I know for a fact that the Paolettis are deeply bonded with my stepfather and his operations.
I also know what’s going through Luca’s mind as he surveys the scene and takes every victim into account.
The heartbreak of losing so many people in one night aside, he just has also lost the support of a lot of important people ahead of a crucial council meeting.
Someone is eliminating Luca’s support.
Luca mutters, his brow furrowed. “What was their angle?”
“I think you already suspect the angle,” I tell him. “They’re trying to eliminate those who support you.”
Enzo nods in agreement. “She’s right, Boss.”
“Where’s Victor?” Luca asks.
“He’s on his way. I texted him. He’s bringing a few more guys over, as well.”
“The cops won’t let us do anything when they get here,” my husband mutters. “See what you can get out of the fucker I just dropped before he dies.”
Enzo walks over to the surviving gunman, but the guy is passed out. My head feels lighter with each passing moment. The room starts spinning.
The shock and adrenaline are starting to wear off, and the grim realization of what could have happened comes rushing in.
Luca’s voice is an echo in the back of my head. He feels me weakening, losing my grip on consciousness, as I melt against his frame.
“Valentina!”
I want to call out his name, but my voice fails. I sense his arms tightening around me as the world spins away in a jumble of frightening thoughts and bloody scenes, of terror and lack of control over my own body. My legs give out from under me.
“Valentina, stay with me!”
Oh, I wish I could, but this sweet, comforting darkness is calling to me. Maybe if I could just stay in it for a moment.
Just a moment.