“Just distract yourself.” Toby whispered into my ear. “Everything you are, everything you’ve gone through, has been for this moment.”
In the mafia, there is an unspoken rule; you don’t kill family… Unless you have to kill family. Why? Well because
family wasn’t just people, it was the name. The name Callahan was both a shield and a weapon. Sometimes in order to protect the name, you had to kill a person.
“I’ll do what I must do,” I whispered to myself as the jet pulled in across from us. Just like I’d planned, Ethan was the first one out. He raised his brow in question as he glanced down at us…only us; none of his men present as they should have been.
“Welcome back, big brother,” I replied sweetly.
“This doesn’t feel like a welcome, little sister.” He replied emotionlessly, walking further down the stairs towards me.
I grinned. Of course, he’d sense it. “You’re right, big brother.” His green eyes, the same green eyes as mine, glared at me, trying to read what exactly I was thinking. And what I thought was…I will never be able to wash my hands of this. But what I said was, “I believe the correct word for it would be a coup d’état.”
“The correct word for it would be betrayal.” He frowned, shaking his head as if I were a little kid, as if he didn’t really believe I was capable.
Well, wasn’t he stupid?
Toby handed me the gun. Before Ethan could get another word in, I pointed the gun and said,“Let’s call it betrayal then.”
I fired.
His wide eyes were the last thing I focused on before twisting my wrist to the left. I fired once into Savino’s skull and then once over my right shoulder, not looking at Toby as I fired directly into his chest.
“Dona…” He gasped behind me, before stumbling back against the Range Rover. I didn’t stop firing, feeling the heat of the gun burn in to my shoulder, until there were no bullets left. When I finally glanced back up, the man I’d shot first - the pilot - lay dead at the entrance of the jet, his rifle slipping from his hands on to the step below him. His blood splattered the inside wall of the jet.
Wyatt and Ivy stepped forward to the entrance of the jet. Wyatt’s wide brown eyes stared down at the pilot at his feet and then glanced over at me. Ethan, who’d dropped down in order to dodge the bullet he thought was meant for him still hadn’t gotten up. He remained on one knee, his green eyes fixed on me…along with the gun in he’d pulled out. Even now, he still didn’t drop it, his finger on the trigger.
Staring back at him, I lifted my hands but didn’t drop my gun either.
“You would have lost,” I told him. If I’d wanted to, there was no way I could have missed him when he was so close. It would have been a perfect shot between the eyes, he’d never have had a chance to point his gun at me. I could have done it. It would have been so easy.
“Maybe.” He couldn’t even admit it as he winced, rising from the ground and standing like a pillar in front of me. Walking over to me, he just glared before putting his gun to my cheek. I allowed him to turn my head to the side so he could inspect my eardrums.
“You’re bleeding. Are you alright?” he asked softly, finally taking his gun off my face and tucking it behind his back.
“Is she alright? Ask me if I’m al-fucking-right!” Wyatt yelled, stepping over the pilot and getting a good footing before reaching back to help Ivy, who he’d been holding back, over the body as well. “I’ve been in this city for less than a bloody minute - one minute! - and I’ve had a shotgun in my face, and blood on my shoes. Why can’t we ever have a normal welcome home? You know, balloons! Maybe a banner or some shit like that?”
Closing my eyes quickly, I inhaled deeply and counted to ten mentally, before opening my eyes again and tilting my head to the side, looking around Ethan’s body to see Wyatt. “Got it. Next time balloons. So… You’re done with Boston now?”
“Donatella,” Ethan interrupted.
Ignoring him, I focused on Wyatt. “You’re wearing a dress shirt…and a tie. Gasp, you must really be home. I should have gotten a ‘he’s a man now’ balloon.”
“We can get Wyatt his balloons later; right now, I’m much more curious about the blood at our feet,” Ethan interrupted, and I looked down at Savino’s blood, which crawled over the gravel to where our feet were directly opposite one another.
“Does it look like I give two shits about your curiosity?” I asked him when I lifted my head to look at him directly.
Ethan’s eyebrow rose as he spoke, “Keep your shit; tell me what happened.”
“So, am I supposed to take sides here or just watch you two glare at each other all day?” Wyatt asked, standing off to the side.
“Wyatt, hold this.” I tossed my gun to him and, not a second later, pulled my fist back before bringing right across Ethan’s jaw.
“I guess I’m watching then,” Wyatt muttered, stepping back from the both of us.
Ethan reached up, touching his cut lip while flexing jaw. His eyes focused back on me. He didn’t get a chance to speak, and I didn’t get a chance to get another hit in because before either of us had time, she got in between us.
“Hit him again and you’ll regret it.” Ivy—messy haired, raccoon-eyed, pale-faced Ivy—had the nerve say to my face as if I wouldn’t beat her down where she stood.