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It was Michael.
one hundred twelve
Damiano
My brows furrowed as I observed his motionless body on the ground. I halted in front of him, nudging him with my foot until a groan escaped him.
I watched him struggle to stand, seeing how severely he was beaten. His face bore cuts, bruises, and blood, and his arm was wrapped around his ribs, likely broken, given his overall condition.
Michael winced as he slumped against the car, breathing heavily before meeting my gaze.
“What are you doing here?” I stared at him blankly, waiting for an explanation.
“I… Shit - Althaia.”
“You’re too late.” I scoffed.
“I tried… to warn…” He continued to groan in pain, on the verge of passing out.
“You’re wasting my time. Get off my property.”
Michael slumped to the ground again, and I signaled for my men to get moving.
“I know where they are.”
That grabbed my attention, and I turned to look back at him. He was struggling to keep his eyes open.
“Do you think he knows something?” Antonio joined me, eyeing Michael suspiciously.
“He called Althaia in Italy, but she hung up before he could tell her what he wanted. He never called back, and now I know why.”
“He’s Gaetano’s right-hand man. It could be one of Gaetano’s games to throw us off.”
“I know.” I replied as we stared at him.
Michael could be a setup, providing us with information to make us believe we have an advantage, only for Gaetano to wipe us out entirely when we arrive.
“Get him some medical attention.” I ordered, and Antonio glanced at me. “If what he has to say matches with what we have found out already, it will help us prepare logistics. If not, put a bullet in his head.”
Time was ticking, and I was going to exploit whatever valuable information I could get my hands on.
Luca and Giovanni grabbed Michael’s arms, lifting him without bothering to be gentle.
A grim expression settled on my face, my jaw clenching at the sound of multiple screeching vehicles approaching. I seized Michael by the collar, slamming him against the car, making him wince.
“Who the hell did you bring?” I sneered at him. He was in too much pain to answer. I released him, and he fell to the ground.
Every one of my men was ready, aiming and waiting in the direction from which the intruders would come.
“Fire!”
Bullets flew, hitting the approaching cars that tried to encircle us. I wouldn’t let them get the chance, and the firing increased until the cars had to come to a stop. The cars were bulletproof, but we held them back by denying them the opportunity to shoot at us.
But something didn’t add up.
I raised my hand to signal them to stop firing. The cars remained motionless, making me narrow my eyes at them.
“Take cover!” I shouted and drew out my gun.
