Page 101 of The Breaker
Because I’d missed.
He raised his arms wide, then broke into a smile. “Wow, this is one hell of a party. Guess my invitation got lost in the mail.”
I shifted my eyes to Tommaso, who was seated with Cosa Nostra, in the hope some of them were armed. But even if they were, their handguns wouldn’t be enough against the rifles. Then I turned back to Darius, who had come to a stop feet from the table.
Medusa growled from where she lay at my feet.
“Heel,” I ordered, not wanting her to get almost shot again.
Darius glanced down at my German shepherd before he looked at me again. “Your little bitch is still alive.”
Medusa growled again.
I slowly rose to my feet and instinctively grabbed my tie and yanked it free.
“Let’s take a trip down memory lane, Con.” He massaged his knuckles, then his wrists, like he was preparing for a fight as he continued to stare me down. “I let you, your wife—” He looked slightly over his shoulder to where Aurelia stood behind my mother, their backs up against the nearest table covered in a white tablecloth. “Congratulations, by the way.” He turned back to me. “And your dog go. And you gave me your word that you would disappear. Or am I misremembering all of that?” He cocked an eyebrow as he leaned in slightly.
I said nothing as I stared him down.
“Man of your word ... that’s what you said to me.” He turned to look at my mother. “She said a lot of nice things about you, said you were honest, but you look like a fucking liar to me.” He stared at me instead. “And what did I say would happen if you broke your word?”
I continued to stare him down. I didn’t have a plan. Didn’t know what to do. I could rush him, but his men would probably shoot me. There was likely no way I would get out of this alive, but that was okay if Aurelia did. I spoke low enough for Rocco to hear and no one else. “Save Aurelia.”
“Sorry, I didn’t hear you.” Darius suddenly raised his voice, his temper flaring, and he was louder than the speaker system tied to the microphone my mother had just used. Now his eyes were narrowed and locked on my face with the fires of vengeance. “What did I say would happen if you broke your word?”
I’d been happier than I’d ever been just moments ago—and now I breathed my final breaths. I wanted to rip this man apart, muscle from bone, ligaments from joints, but I would probably never get close enough.
“I said I would kill every person you’ve ever known and loved. Which means ...” He turned around in a full circle, gesturing to the five hundred guests who had come to my wedding. “All of you are dead. Every single fucking one of you.” He made eye contact withme. “Thanks to this pompous fucking asshole who can’t shoot a gun straight.” He clapped his hands once. “So, how should we start?” Then he took a step toward my mother and Aurelia.
I jumped over the table so fast. Tore off my jacket and cast it aside in a rush. “Darius, I swear to fucking God—”
“Your mother.” He pointed at my mother, who continued to guard Aurelia like she was her own daughter. “Or your wife.” He grabbed Aurelia by the arm and started to tug her forward, making her stand beside my mother.
“Darius.”
The table behind him had a group of men and women, and two of the guys lunged for it, trying to tackle Darius from behind.
Gunfire erupted, and every guest at the table was sprayed with bullets. The room screamed, and everyone ducked under their chairs for cover.
“No one is going anywhere,” Darius said calmly. “So, what’s it going to be?” He pointed at my mother. “Your mother.” Then he pointed at Aurelia. “Or your wife. Who should go first, Constantine?” He turned back to me, arms crossed over his chest. “And yes, I’ll stomp on their arms and legs and spine, and we’ll all listen to them scream as every single one of their bones snaps in half before I shove them into an oil drum, just like your asshole brother.”
My mother couldn’t control her pained gasp, learning the truth in the most graphic way possible. She had to grab on to Aurelia’s hand for balance, like she might fall over.
There was a malicious glint in his eyes like he was enjoying this, like he’d been plotting this since I’d shot him in the head, like he’d purposely lain low and waited until this moment because it would be far more worthwhile. “And I’ll cut out your baby and throw it into the sea—”
“I swear to fucking God—”
“Your wife or your mother. Choose.”
My muscles were flexed with rage-soaked blood, and it would take at least twenty bullets to slow me down. I thought I was angry when my brother died, but this was borderline derangement.
My mother and Aurelia shrank back against the table, and Darius and I continued our standoff.
Then Darius moved toward them. “Then it looks like I’ll choose for you.”
I launched into a sprint, knowing the spray of bullets would kill me, but if I could kill him first, then my mother and Aurelia had a chance to get out of there alive.
A nearby gunman moved in my way, pointing his rifle right into my chest and forcing me back. Then he put the gun to my temple and kicked the backs of my knees until I was forced to the floor, on my knees, the barrel loaded with a magazine pressed right into me.
