Page 84 of Wicked Mafia Sinner

And then all hell breaks loose.

Sixteen

Rowan

Bullets spray the wall above my head.

Taking control over the darkness pouring through my soul is nearly impossible. So I stop fighting it. I push Cora behind me and force her to the floor when she wants to pop her head over the edge of a table.

“Woman, keep your head down. Don’t ever do that again. Stay here. Promise me.”

I expect to see fear in her expressions, but when my gaze locks with hers all I see is trust.

“Yeah, got it. Please don’t get killed but let them eat lead.” She kisses me and then tucks herself out of sight.

A second sheet of bullets takes out the window behind Rafael's head and glass cascades across the marble in a glittering wave.

I’ve spent years burying my darker side. Letting my brothers handle the bloody side of our business.

Dark cravings for murder and bloodshed prickle over my senses.

That ends here.

I take in my surroundings. There are six shooters. Two on the stairwell, four fanning from the elevator bank in a loose V with weapons trained on the center of the lobby. Nikolai stands behind the formation with his arms crossed, watching his choreography unfold with a sadistic smile on his face.

Our security teams sit thirty floors below us. Response time runs roughly forty-five seconds, which means the first half-minute belongs to the men with the guns.

That can’t happen. Not with my Cora here.

Thirty seconds is a long time when bullets are chewing through walls like paper.

Drake and Kon surge forward.

“Do you remember what I told you the last time I saw you?” I ask. “Tell me, do you remember?”

My son wants to taunt me but I ignore his words as he calls out.

“Load me up.” I hold my hands out and Drake tosses one of his weapons from his shoulder holster my way. We hang low as we move swiftly into a protective position. We both flip a table, using it as a shield in time to catch a wild arc of bullets. Metal pelts the solid mahogany, keeping the blood in our veins for a while longer.

I signal for Massimo and Cristian to break off and secure the rest of the location. Massimo fights my decision with a stone-cold look but ultimately peels off and circles behind Nikolai, heading for the stairwell. The last thing we need is to have more men entering this small space.

Luca cuts left along the perimeter, fast and silent, closing the distance to the stairwell shooters. Rafael catches my eye and signals that one of the shooters has popped his last clip.

“Answer me you sorry piece of shit. Tell me! do you remember?”

I again hold my tongue when my son taunts me. Bitterness, rage and madness drive the man. Talking with him now is a waste of energy.

I catch Rafael’s attention and jerk my chin toward the incoming shooters working for my son. They think they have the upper hand here and I’m going to love proving to them how wrong they are.

The next five seconds slow as Rafael raises his weapon and pulls the trigger.

I’m to the right of him. My finger is already on the trigger. I pull at the same time he does. Dual muzzle flashes and the scent of blood hit my senses simultaneously.

Two bodies drop, making it four left to go.

“Everyone listen up. My son is for me to handle.”

Rafael looks at me as does Soren and Luca.