Page 268 of Marcello

Blam blam blam blam blam blam blam!

I threw my hands in front of my face and winced in terror –

But nothing happened.

Thank God for the bulletproof glass. Otherwise I would’ve been Swiss cheese.

I couldn’t see through the windshield because it was opaque from all the cracks, but I heard the Mercedes screech out of the parking lot.

“THAT WAS ROSOLINI!” Ciro screamed, and began frantically digging in his jeans for his phone.

“What are you doing?” Lucrezia asked from the backseat. She sounded unnaturally calm.

“I’m calling Cesare! We gotta tell him that Rosolini’s not in the hospital!”

“No.”

I turned around in shock to look at her. “What?!”

We were only on this goddamn mission because Cesare wanted vengeance –

And the target was now speeding away from us at 60 miles an hour.

Lucrezia, however, did not seem to care.

“Do NOT call my brother,” she ordered Ciro.

He stared at her in the rearview mirror –

Then sneered, “Fuck you, bitch.”

Whoa.

I knew Ciro was a raging misogynist who didn’t respect Lucrezia, but she was still his boss. It was fucking stupid to talk to her like that.

Two seconds later, Ciro found out just how stupid.

As he fumbled with his phone, there was a deafening BANG! –

And the front of his head exploded.

“SHIT!” I screamed as blood sprayed the windshield.

I turned towards the backseat –

And found myself staring at the smoking barrel of a .38.

“We’re not calling Cesare,” Lucrezia said coldly. “Do you have a problem with that?”

This is the part where the hero realizes there might have been a more dangerous villain all along.

“No,” I said calmly. “No, I do not.”

“Excellent,” she purred.

“How are we going to explain this, though?” I asked as I pointed at Ciro.

His head was propped against the steering wheel, and a steady stream of blood was drizzling onto the floorboard.