Page 113 of Mafia King

A woman appears from the kitchen with a gun held forward in both hands, and it takes me a second to recognize her wavy brown hair and yellow sundress.

“Gia?” I croak. Then I shout, pounding on the glass. “Gia!”

Santino looks up at me, and our eyes meet just when the gun cracks. His limbs shake and his chest goes concave where the bullet hits him. His legs are thrown from under him and the force of the shot sends him backward, into the placid surface of his pool.

“No!” I scream.

The water gathers around Santino’s lifeless body.

She hit him in the chest.

Did it miss his heart?

Just a lung?

Damiano lets me go. I tear myself away from the sight of my husband, my lover, my king sinking. I know how to do this.

Surface.

Flip.

Swim.

I have to get down there. See the wound. Stop the blood. Call 9-1-1. I turn and face the man obstructing my path out. Three thin red lines dry on his cheeks as if he’s been crying blood. He’s between the door and me, legs wide and arms out from his body, elbows bent, ready to grab at anything he can reach.

“Please,” is the only word I have.

He licks his lips.

Please.

Secure area.

Check breathing.

Check pulse.

She shot him in his heart.

“Let me by,” I say, trying to get around Damiano on his blind side, but he blocks me.

Administer CPR.

Beg him to live.

“I can save him!” I scream.

“I know,” is all he says before he pulls his fist back and hits my face so hard the world goes black.