Page 195 of Vicious Intentions
“Hey, Red! Remember me?!” Rocco shouts just as he shoots at Stella. But Stella is too fast for him to pin down, ducking and returning fire immediately. A round slams into the beam inches from Rocco’s head.
“Matteo!” Rocco calls. “They’re pushing in!”
I see it. They’re closing the distance, tightening the space. They’re efficient and trained. If they weren’t my sworn enemies, I might have marveled at how well they’ve choreographed the whole thing.
Marcello is able to get to his men, slicing the ties that bind them, so they can make their escape. All the while, Stella shoots round after round, making sure she’s got her brother’s back.
Then Marcello steps forward again, and for a split second, everything narrows. I catch it in the corner of my eye—Niccolò’s stance shifting, his breath steadying as his gun lifts with intent. He’s got a kill shot. Aimed straight at Marcello’s head.
Time slows and I don’t think. I just fire. My bullet cracks through the air, hitting the wall just above Marcello’s head. Concrete explodes, dust and fragments raining down. Marcello drops instantly, ducking behind cover.
Niccolò jerks toward me. “What the—”
“Focus!” I snap, already firing again, covering the moment.
It’s done. He’s alive. I made sure of it.
Marcello peeks out from his hiding spot, more cautious this time. Our eyes almost meet through the gunfire and smoke, and for a second, I wonder if he knows. If he saw that I just saved his life. If he understands the betrayal I committed, just to make sure he takes his next breath. Gunfire surges louder, drowning the thought.
“Fall back!” Stella shouts from the other side.
Suddenly, we are interrupted by the sound of engines fast approaching. Headlights flood the street outside, cutting through the broken windows. Three black SUVs screech to a stop, tires protesting against the asphalt.
The gunfire shifts now that Marcello and his soldiers are starting to pull back, having gotten what they came for. He moves first, grabbing one of the wounded men, hauling him up with brutal efficiency. Stella covers him, firing in sharp, controlled bursts as they continue with their retreat. Niccolò pushes forward instinctively, but Rocco grabs his arm to stop his next move.
“Don’t, brother,” he says. “It’s not worth it. We’ll get our chance with those fucks again. Trust me.”
Rocco’s right. And I hate it that he’s right. We will get another chance, and next time we might not be so lucky.
Through the shattered doorway, I see them spill onto the street. The doors of one of the SUVs swing open, and Jude Romano steps out to haul his father’s men on board.
“Move!” he calls, voice cutting clean through the ruckus. “Now!”
While Jude helps the wounded men inside the cars, Marcello and Stella keep shooting at us. They only join their brother once they are certain that every last Outfit soldier is alive and accounted for.
I step into the doorway just as the vehicles peel away, tires screeching, disappearing into the night as if they were never here. Silence crashes down in their wake, while smoke hangs in the air. The smell of gunpowder burns my lungs, while my heavy conscience roots me to the spot. Niccolò stands beside me, breathing hard.
“I had him,” he says quietly. “I fucking had him.”
I don’t answer. But when he turns to me and sees the pain in my expression, I know there’s no hiding from him anymore.
“I love her, Nico. I fucking love her.” His eyes widen at the realization that the only reason he missed his shot was because I got in his way. “Nico!” He lifts up his hand, silencing my words.
“Moretti was right,” he says quietly, low enough for neither Rocco nor our men to hear him. “You’re not fit to rule. Not anymore.”
“Nico,” I repeat, but it’s no use. He doesn’t want an explanation and would never understand any I could give him.
“You’ve made your choice,” he says, voice low. “And now you’ve forced me to make mine.”
With that ominous remark, he turns his back to me and walks away.
Chapter 44
Matteo
Fuck this shit.
Every night I come home to find my wife hiding a full day of panic behind a tired smile, and every night I feel myself getting closer to losing my goddamn mind.
