Chapter 34
VIKTOR
Pain.
That’s the first thing I feel when consciousness drags me back. Pain like fire in my arm, my knee, my head. Everything hurts in ways I didn’t know things could hurt.
I’m lying on the altar, the stone slab cold against my back and wet with what I think is my blood. My arm is bent, my knee is destroyed, and there’s a ringing in my head that won’t stop.
Dante did this to me. Broke me like a plastic doll and left me here to bleed while he went after the ledger.
I deserve it. I know that now. It took a beating and a near-death experience to see it clearly, but I deserve everything he did and more.
I can hear the gunfire and the screams of war. The battle is still ongoing, which means I haven’t been out for long. Maybe for a just a few minutes.
I force my eyes open and try to focus through the pain and the haze.
The cathedral is even messier now in just a few minutes. The bodies on the floor are double of what they were. And in the middle of it all, Isabella Marchetti’s forces are overwhelming what’s left of Dante’s men.
Isabella.
I should have known she’d come. Should have realized the Marchettis wouldn’t just let their secrets stay buried. She was always the dangerous one, more than Antonio ever was. He was cruel, but she was calculating. Cold in a way that made even me uncomfortable.
She is standing near the entrance, surrounded by guards, and watching the massacre unfold. There’s a radio in her hand that she starts speaking into, her voice authoritative.
“Status report,” she says, her voice rising through the noise.
A man’s voice comes through. “The west side is cleared. Six of Moretti’s men are down, but we’re still searching for the ledger.”
“Forget searching. Moretti knows where it is. When we get him, we get the ledger. Focus on cutting down all obstacles.” She pauses, scanning the cathedral, and I look away sharply, blending with the bodies around me to avoid getting spotted.
That’d be suicidal. “New orders. The primary target is Dante Moretti. Secondary is that whore of his. I want them both down. Also, intel says there’s a child somewhere in the building… ”
My blood instantly feels cold as I realize her intent even before she voices it out.
She doesn’t hesitate. “Kill him too. I’m not leaving a Moretti heir alive to come after me in fifteen years. The bloodline ends tonight. Every single one of them. The boy, the woman, Dante, anyone who’s seen the ledger or knows what’s in it. No one walks out of here breathing.”
“Understood.”
She returns the radio back to her belt and turns to one of her captains. “Send a team to sweep the lower levels. If they’ve hidden the child down there, find him. Drag him out. I don’t care if he’s one or fifty, he’s a threat as long as he’s breathing.”
A five-year-old child. She just ordered her men to hunt down and murder a five-year-old child.
How cruel can one be? I know I’m no saint.
I have so much blood on my hands, and even then, there are lines not to be crossed.
Harming children, especially innocent ones, is top on the list. And it’s my fault the little boy is even here.
Now I see that Dante was right about the ledger. About exposing the truth and some sins being too big to bury.
I was trying to protect him from his father’s legacy, that part was true. But I was also trying to profit from it. Trying to use the secrets for my own gain, and look where that got me. Look where it got everyone.
I can see them now, through the smoke and chaos. Isabella’s men are advancing on a position near the side chapel, closing in while Dante and Scarlett are focused on Isabella herself, unaware.
If those soldiers get into position, they’ll have a clear shot at Dante’s and Scarlett’s backs. And then find the little boy wherever they’ve hidden him.
My arms and legs are useless. I can barely see straight, and every breath I take feels like swallowing broken glass.
But there’s a gun on the floor, from one of the fallen soldiers. If I can reach it…
I start to move and the pain nearly blacks me out. My broken arm screams in protest, and my shattered knee refuses to cooperate. But I manage to get off the alter and keep dragging myself across the blood-stained stone inch by inch, leaving a trail of red behind me.
The gun is close now. Two feet. One foot. My fingers finally close around the grip and I almost pass out with relief.
I can’t stand and barely lift my head. But I can aim. Years of training don’t disappear just because you’re dying.
The two soldiers closing in on Dante’s position come into view. They’re focused on their target, not watching their backs. Why would they? They think they’re winning.
I line up my shot. My hand is shaking, my vision blurring, but I’ve made harder shots than this. Back when I was still the Almighty Viktor Russo.
I squeeze the trigger.
The first soldier drops, the round catching him in the back of the head. The second man spins toward me, surprised, and I put two rounds in his chest before he can get his weapon up.
They both go down and Dante’s back is free.
But the gunfire has drawn attention. Isabella’s men are turning toward me now, realizing I’m still a threat. I see their weapons coming up, see the muzzles pointing at my broken body.
I think about Elena, Marco’s wife. The woman I’ve known for years, who always made sure there was a plate for me at family dinners. Who treated me like a brother even though I didn’t deserve it.
I think about Dante. The man I served for fifteen years. The best friend I betrayed for money and power. The brother I never admitted I had.
I think about Luca. That little boy with his father’s eyes and his mother’s courage. The child I terrorized. The child I almost got killed.
I hope Dante gets him out of here. I hope they all get out. I hope the ledger burns and the truth comes out and somewhere, somehow, something good comes from all this death.
Then the bullets are hitting me and it’s almost a relief. I fall backward, my body jerking with each impact, and the last thing I see is Dante turning toward me. Our eyes meet across the cathedral, and I hope he understands.
I hope he knows this was my choice. My redemption. The only good thing I’ve done in years.
I chose his son over my mission. In the end, that has to count for something.
The world goes dark.