Mario challenges me, leading to a severe puncture wound in his abdomen, in his chest and a broken leg. No more men must die today, but if they stand behind Roberto, there’s little choice but to fight and prove I’m the next don to take the Moretti throne.
The fighting inside ceases at the sound of gunfire erupting just beyond the doors. It’s time to lead my men in victory.
Mario is wounded along with a half dozen other men and the capos who fought with Roberto. I shout orders to arm the soldiers and stand ready for a firefight.
I want to lead the battle, but the boy is who they’re after, the young child Roberto ordered me to kidnap.
The men know their places during an attack. There have been many drills training the men at the complex where to stand and what to do in battle to protect the don.
Will they protect me?
I’m not sure. I don’t intend to find out. The soldiers rush to the armory and procure weapons. I grab the little boy from the closet and bring him into the darkened office. The lights are off. Roberto’s body has been moved, but blood stains the marble floor.
“Under the desk,” I order him to hide, shuffling him out of sight as I sit in the boss’ chair at my new desk.
My gun remains unholstered in my hands, the safety off. I’m prepared to shoot any soldiers who enter the office, anyone I deem a threat to myself or the child.
In the darkness, the office door creaks open. The room remains dark, but I recognize her when she steps inside, as the light behind her cascades over her briefly.
I’d recognize her anywhere.
Aleksandra Barinov.
I can’t help but stare, transfixed by her presence. She’s the last person I expected to show up. “Aleksandra,” I say.
She lifts the blade in her hand and spins around to face me, the desk between us.
Does she think she has a chance with that weapon against me? How many men has she killed?
“What are you doing in here?” I ask. It’s no surprise that the bratva broke through the main entrance, but Aleksandra, I didn’t think her brother, Mikhail, would have allowed her to tag along.
Unless he wants her dead?
“Why are you in the dark?” she counters.
The little one under the desk bolts out when he hears Aleksandra’s voice.
“Mama!” the child squeals from beneath the desk and hurries around me, rushing to his mother’s aid.
“Liam,” Aleksandra clutches her son, breathing an enormous sigh.
“Quiet,” I warn the two of them. The last thing I want is to put Aleksandra or Liam’s life in further danger.
Aleksandra lifts Liam into her arms, keeping him against her hip.
“I can get you out of here, but you have to promise me something.”
She stares at me, her eyes bright and wide, but she doesn’t make any promises. “Please, help us.”
“Keep him far from the bratva and your brother, Mikhail.”
She exhales a heavy breath. I’m asking a lot of her. They’re family. And why would she listen to me? Is it the shiny metal of the gun in my hand that would persuade her to abandon the only family she’s ever known?
“It’s not like I have much choice,” she mutters under her breath. “Do me a favor and ask your mafia boss to stop kidnapping innocent kids.” Aleksandra isn’t afraid of me. Most women would cower at the sight of the gun in my hand, the threat of what it means.
Why doesn’t she fear me?
“Roberto will no longer be a problem,” I say.
Her brow tightens, but she doesn’t respond. She probably doesn’t believe me, but I’m not about to confess to her that I’ve killed our mafia’s leader. I don’t need the Barinovs discovering that we’re vulnerable in our hierarchy as we establish a new chain of command.
“Follow me,” I say as I usher her out of the office. We don’t get far. Mikhail and six of his men are coming at us; guns are drawn, ready for a fight.
“Don’t shoot!” Aleksandra holds up one hand to her brother and his men. The other is wrapped around Liam’s waist, keeping him tight against her.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Mikhail shouts at his sister.
“Rescuing my son,” Aleksandra snaps.