Chapter 6 - Through the Fire
The second floor corridor looked like a warzone. Drywall was shredded by automatic fire, smoke hung thick in the air, and the smell of copper and spent cordite burned the throat.
Marcus crouched behind a heavy oak pedestal supporting a marble bust of a Roman emperor. He held his tactical sidearm with both hands, his breathing deep, measured, and controlled.
Two Valenti enforcers swept down the hallway, their weapon lights cutting through the haze.
"Check the bedrooms!" one of them barked in a thick Italian accent. "The boss wants the kid alive for leverage! Kill anyone else!"
Marcus waited. He let them advance past his position, counting their steps in his head—one, two, three.
The moment the rear guard turned his back to inspect a guest suite, Marcus stood up from behind the pedestal.
Phut-phut.
Two suppressed rounds struck the rear guard in the center mass of his chest rig, knocking him off balance. Before the lead gunman could swing his rifle around, Marcus drove a heavy shoulder into his chest, pinning him against the wall, and delivered three brutal point-blank strikes with his pistol.
The second gunman collapsed into a heap on the carpet.
Marcus was bleeding from a shallow graze along his left forearm, but he barely felt the pain. The adrenaline coursing through his body was a cold, terrifying fire. He picked up the fallen assault rifle, checked the magazine, and moved toward the central balcony overlooking the main foyer.
Below, the battle was reaching its climax.
Vincent Torino stood behind the central marble fountain, surrounded by four fallen enemy enforcers. He was wounded—a dark streak of blood soaked the left shoulder of his suit—but he moved with terrifying, methodical precision, firing with deadly accuracy at the remaining attackers pushing through the broken glass doors of the front entrance.
Standing near the grand entrance, holding a silver-plated revolver, was Leo Valenti—the head of the Valenti crime family himself.
"It's over, Torino!" Leo roared, his voice echoing off the vaulted ceilings. "My men have the perimeter! Your estate is burning! Give me the docks, and I'll let you bleed out gracefully!"
Vincent let out a dark, mocking laugh, reloading his weapon with one hand. "You came into my house, Leo. You brought street trash into my home. You won't leave this valley alive."
Leo raised his revolver, aiming straight at Vincent’s exposed chest as Vincent shifted positions.
From the second-floor balcony above, Marcus didn't think. He didn't calculate the political consequences or the moral weight of what he was about to do. He saw the man who had given him a life, a home, and a purpose being targeted by a predator.
Marcus raised his rifle, leaned over the mahogany banister, and pulled the trigger.
A burst of automatic fire stitched across the marble floor at Leo Valenti’s feet, shattering his shoulder and sending his silver revolver spinning across the floor.
Leo screamed in agony, collapsing against the grand entrance archway.
Vincent looked up at the balcony, his grey eyes widening slightly as he saw Marcus standing high above, framed by smoke and holding the smoking rifle, his grandmother's coat draped over his shoulders like a warlord's cloak.
A rare, fierce look of pride flashed across Vincent’s face.
Within two minutes, Viktor and the remaining estate security forces swept into the foyer from the eastern wing, securing the perimeter and neutralizing the remaining Valenti enforcers.
The siege was over.
Vincent walked slowly across the blood-stained marble floor, stopping before the writhing, weeping Leo Valenti. He didn't say a word. He simply raised his sidearm and ended the decade-long war between their families with a single, quiet shot.
May you like
Then, Vincent turned and looked up at Marcus.
"Clear the third floor," Vincent ordered Viktor quietly, his eyes never leaving Marcus. "And bring my son down."
