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With a sniffle, I wiped my nose, the weight in my chest growing heavier, knowing what was coming.
I held my father’s gaze as firmly as I could. “I won’t,” I offered a small smile. Another wipe on my cheek. “I won’t kill you, but I know someone who will.”
It happened in a flash.
I moved aside and cleared the path, and my heart squeezed when his eyes widened. But before he could take any countermeasure...
Pop!
I watched my father’s tall, sturdy frame crumple to the floor, a pool of red slowly growing on the thick suit fabric on the spot just below his shin. He groaned loudly, the pain in his voice unfiltered.
Unable to stomach the sight, I turned away, allowing Maxim to take over.
As I brushed past him, I hadn’t noticed the darkness swimming in his eyes, ready to be unleashed. He lifted his arm, aimed, and fired—again.
Another thick, animalistic groan of anguish. My eyes watered as I ran to the security lock to try to figure out the passcode.
“Fucking bastard! Try and run, let’s see!” The depth of anger in Maxim’s voice sent chills down my spine. Pop, Pop! Two shots rang out in quick succession, and my shoulders shuddered.
My tears spilled on the security lock as my fingers worked their way through multiple random codes, and a buzz with an automated voice rang out with each try.
My hands shook violently, but I had to keep trying. I couldn’t give up. I couldn’t stop. Not now, when I heard my son's pleas and cries grow fainter by the passing seconds. I cupped my cheeks, ignoring my own tears flowing in a calm rush. Stay focused, Gia.
The clang of metal against the wall echoed in the room and, before I could process anything, a sick crunch of fists on jaw. Up and down, the fists went, and Maxim released a growl with each blow.
Nineteen seconds...
I needed a breakthrough. Come on, Gianna. Think!
I flexed my fingers and tried a combination—the date he became head of the Outfit.
Relief spread through me, and more tears fell down my eyes. Tears of joy now. I’d done it! The door unclicked, and the distant hum of generators running had stopped. Before I could pull the door open, the disgruntled sound of “How?” stopped me in my tracks.
When I turned around, I wish I hadn’t.
My father was a bloodied mess. Red soaked everything; his pants, the Italian brown suit, and the white dress shirt were utterly unrecognizable. Maxim hadn’t left his face spared. Purple and black bruises dotted the eyebags underneath his eyes, and he coughed out spurts of blood from his busted lips.
“How?” He coughed again, gasping for breath. “How did you...”
“How?” I repeated the question with a quirked brow. “Well, thanks to you and your years of training, I could..”
He heaved and shut his eyes as if every word had stolen the precious breath from his lungs. “No one else knows the code except me.”
“Typical.” I looked away from him. Anything looked better than him at the moment. “You’re easy to read. Everyone around you knows there’s nothing you love more than yourself and power.”
Though badly injured, he still managed a sarcastic laugh. He threw his head back and gazed at the ceiling. “I guess all the work I put into you wasn’t a waste.”
“You might be sick in the head, but you’re not stupid,” Maxim commented.
It was true; my father might have been many things, but dumb was not one of them. He knew how this was going to end. If anyone left this old facility warehouse with a triumphant smirk, it would be me.
My father knew we’d won. And he knew he was going to die.
I opened the door and walked into the chamber where the boys lay, one over the other. Their eyes were closed, and their bodies were covered in cold sweat. Panic almost seized me until I noticed their chests' slow rise and fall. The growing lack of oxygen must have knocked them out.
I rushed out of the room to beckon on Maxim. We needed to rush them to a doctor, and there was no way I would carry both of them on my feeble shoulders. I was already barely supporting my own weight as it was.
But my heart hitched at the sight of Maxim’s outstretched arm and the silver gun aimed at my father’s head.
