Chapter 9 - VENGEANCE AND DAWN
The gunshots inside the enclosed living room sounded like cannon fire.
Two hollow-point rounds struck Antonio Bellini directly in the chest; the third shattered his right shoulder.
The submachine gun flew from his hands as he crashed backward into the glass coffee table, shattering it into ten thousand glittering shards.
Antonio wheezed, his mouth filling with blood, staring up at me in absolute, incomprehensible shock.
I stood in the doorway of the vault, both hands locked around the pistol, smoke curling from the barrel, my heart hammering like a trapped bird against my ribs.
Behind Antonio, the shattered patio doors were kicked open.
Luca burst into the room. He took in the scene in a fraction of a second: Antonio bleeding out on the glass; the thermite charge deactivated; and me standing tall, protecting the doorway to his daughter.
Luca’s rifle lowered. The tension left his frame, replaced by an expression of pure, unadulterated awe.
He walked slowly across the shattered glass, his heavy combat boots crunching over the debris, stopping right beside the dying underboss.
Antonio looked up at Luca, gasping for his final breaths. “Luca... please... Elena... it was Falcone’s idea...”
Luca knelt beside the man who had ordered the murder of his wife and attempted to poison his daughter. His eyes were devoid of hatred; they were colder than absolute zero.
“You died the day Elena’s car hit the river, Antonio,” Luca whispered, leaning close so only the old man could hear. “You were just too stupid to lie down.”
Luca reached down and ripped the Bellini signet ring from Antonio’s bloody finger.
Antonio’s eyes rolled back. His body shuddered once, and then went completely still.
The house fell into profound, absolute silence.
The smoke from the gunfire drifted out through the shattered windows, blending into the morning mist rising over the lake.
Luca stood up. He tossed the Bellini ring into the fireplace ashes.
Then he turned to me.
My hands began to shake violently as the adrenaline crashed out of my system. The heavy Glock slipped from my fingers, clattering onto the hardwood floor.
Before I could fall, Luca’s arms wrapped around me like steel bands. He pulled me against his chest, burying his face into my hair, holding me so tight I could feel every beat of his racing heart against my cheek.
“I have you,” he whispered, his voice cracking with raw emotion. “I have you, Emily. It’s over. It’s finally over.”
I buried my face in his neck, the scent of cedar and gunpowder surrounding me, and wept with overwhelming relief.
A tiny pair of arms wrapped around both of our waists. Isabella was there, hugging us both, crying happy tears into Luca’s tactical vest.
Luca dropped to his knees, pulling Isabella into the embrace, wrapping his massive arms around the two of us. The three of us knelt together on the floor of the ruined living room as the first golden rays of sunrise broke through the pine trees, painting the room in warmth and light.
May you like
Dante and Roberto stepped onto the patio, took one look at the scene, smiled quietly, and closed the doors, leaving the family alone in their dawn of redemption.
***
