“Gladly.”
Emiliano dashed forward with his blade leading the way. Nico leaned on his martial arts training, anticipating his opponent’s next move. And when Emiliano feinted to the left, Nico dropped and shoulder-rolled to the right. Emiliano realized what was happening as he was completing his move and coming back to the right. It was too late. Nico pistoned his leg out, catching Emiliano in the side of the knee.
His leg let out a loud crack and buckled inward in an unnatural way. The man’s screams echoed around the wide open space of the warehouse and he crumpled to the ground in a heap. Nico sprang to his feet and darted over to his fallen foe. He kicked Emiliano’s blade out of his hand and sent it spinning across the warehouse floor. He then turned and delivered a vicious kick to Emiliano’s face.
There was another snap as his nose broke and blood sprayed across the concrete floor. But the blow sent a shockwave of pain up Nico’s leg, and he dropped to a knee, clutching his wounded thigh. He looked down and saw the dark red blood squeezing out between his fingers and grunted, doing his best to bite back the throbbing pain. Gritting his teeth, he made his way over to the fallen man and watched as the blood oozed from his mouth and nose. His two front teeth were missing, his eyes already blackening from the kick Nico had delivered, and his leg jutted out at an unnatural angle. He was done and Nico didn’t want to kill him if he didn’t have to.
“Yield,” Nico said as he pressed the edge of his dagger to the side of Emiliano’s neck.
Rocco let out a choked gasp as he watched Nico with his dagger to his son’s throat. Emiliano glared at him with pure hatred in his eyes. But then he looked to his father and nodded.
“Do it,” Emiliano called out.
His father pulled his phone out of his pocket and made a call.
“What did you do, Emiliano?” Nico asked.
“You didn’t think I didn’t have a backup plan, did you?”
The black curtain at the far end of the room dropped, revealing a dozen men in dark suits holding AR-15s that were pointed at the backs of the six men clad entirely in black on their knees in front of them. The men in black had their hands bound with zip ties and had their heads lowered. To the side of the men in the suits was a large video screen that showed the faces of twelve men.
“What? What is this shit?” Emiliano hissed. “What is going on?”
Rocco’s face blanched and his eyes darted from his son to the faces of the men on the video screen. Nico turned to Emiliano and grinned.
“You didn’t think I didn’t have a backup plan, did you?” he said.
“I had no knowledge of this. I didn’t know what my son had planned,” Rocco stammered.
“Shut the fuck up, Rocco,” Nico’s father snapped.
“Yes, do shut the fuck up,” one of the men on the video screen said.
Nico let out a quiet breath of relief knowing it all could have gone wrong in so many ways. But he relied on what he knew about the Vittores to form his plan. He knew they were treacherous and didn’t believe that the rules and customs of the Families applied to them. They had nothing but disdain for tradition. Nico knew that. Which was why, before coming to the warehouse, he had contacted the heads of all twelve of the other Families. He asked for their indulgence and laid out what was happening, including his challenge.
They’d all been amused when they heard he’d invoked a rite as old as the Dance. But they’d approved of it because it showed his knowledge of their customs and traditions. He’d told them he knew Emiliano and Rocco were going to violate the rules and needed the other bosses to witness it. So, he’d set up a Zoom call and made sure to have a camera feed in the warehouse to let them see the Dance.
And sure enough, Rocco and Emiliano had brought six armed men with them to step in and kill Nico and his father if he gained the upper hand. Luckily enough, a private security team had been dispatched and had subdued them all before Rocco made the call to bring them in.
"Rocco Vittore, Emiliano Vittore," a deep-voiced man on the Zoom call screen intoned. "You are both in violation of the Code. You lost the Dance and yet, you attempted to circumvent the rules and murder the Santonelli’s in cold blood. Your lives are now forfeit.”
“Wait,” Rocco interjected. “I can explain. There’s an explanation for this and—”
“Silence,” Nico’s father snapped then turned to the screen. “Do we have unanimous consent to execute the Vittores?"
“We have unanimous consent,” another of the bosses on the screen said.
Rocco turned and ran for the door, but a shot rang out and tore through his leg. He screamed in pain, clutching his thigh, and fell to the ground. River flinched and stared in horror. Two of the men in suits quickly descended on Rocco and two on Emiliano. They hauled the injured men to their feet and dragged them out of the warehouse thrashing and screaming the entire time. The rest of the men in suits marched the six Vittore men out behind them, disappearing into the darkness beyond the door.
River rushed over to Nico and threw her arms around him. He held her tightly to him, squeezing her tight. She sniffed loudly and buried her face in his neck.
“I was so scared for you,” she said.
“What? I had this all the way,” Nico replied with a chuckle.
She pulled back and gave him an exasperated look. “All that blood says otherwise.”
“Window dressing. I’m fine.”