Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 94048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
I scramble from my position and change angles. I take down another shooter, but this time they’re quick to pick me out and I’m forced to hide again. Cursing myself, I try to sprint into a nearby house, but a spray of bullets forces me down onto the ground.
I’m caught out on the sidewalks, trapped between the cars and the house. I start crawling to the cars, the rifle held across my chest like I’m in the military, but I hear shouting nearby. The attackers must be coming for me, since I have one of the few guns powerful enough to pierce their body armor.
Except when I look up, it isn’t a man in black standing over me with a gun.
It’s Davide waving from a nearby house.
He ducks back behind a pillar and fires in at the shooters. I hesitate, staring at him, before shoving myself up to my knees, then scramble toward him keeping as low as I can.
More Bianco soldiers appear then. They all fire at once, giving me enough cover to make the fifteen-foot dash through open air to reach the porch. I throw myself through the door as the attackers regroup for a counter-assault, and I hit the ground with a skid as the windows are wrecked by rifle fire.
I find Davide in the back in the kitchen. He’s bleeding from an ugly gash across his forehead and drinking a glass of water, his eyes completely clear and a strange, vicious smile on his face like he’s enjoying this.
“What’s going on?” I press and he pulls me into a tight hug.
“Uncle Santoro,” he says, his voice a hoarse growl. “Dad’s lying low with Mom, Elena, Laura, and Stefania. They’re holed up in the family house.”
That’s good. It’s the most heavily fortified of all the structures, basically one giant panic room. “How many are out there?”
“Hard to say. They threw open those fucking trucks and flooded the goddamn zone. We’ve been retaking the place house by house for the last twenty minutes.”
I grab his arm and pull him close. “Where the fuck are the cops?”
He howls a laugh, throwing his head back. “I’d bet my fucking balls Uncle Santoro pulled every string he possibly could to make sure the CPD took their goddamn time coming out here.”
This was a mess. A fucking nightmare. It was going to be a tangle of court cases and bureaucratic red tape for the next ten years, and we’re going to have to spend all our political capital just to make sure the family isn’t absolutely ruined.
Which Santoro would’ve known. Coming here, to our home, and doing something like this, he couldn’t have thought that would end us.
No, he wants to make it impossible for us to fight back. He wants to create a major news story and have the whole country talking about how Chicago’s a lawless hellscape where gangs have gun battles in the goddamn street. That’ll make sure city hall is so far up our ass we can’t walk without the mayor tickling our collective prostate.
“We have to clear them out,” I snarl at Davide. “Before the cops show up.”
He spreads his hands like no fucking shit. “If you have a plan, now’s the time to tell me.” There’s more gunfire from outside and a few screams of pain. Davide stares at the front door like all he wants to do is rush those trucks and die in a blaze of glory.
“I’ll make a call,” I tell him and shove him toward a chair. “Don’t get yourself fucking killed. Imagine how pissed Stefania would be.”
He grunts and seems unhappy but at least he doesn’t rush outside. I duck out the back door, nodding at a few injured soldiers, and pull out my phone. It feels fucked making a call right now, but Vito answers on the first ring.
I tell him the deal. I tell him how bad things are and how it’ll only get worse. He’s two minutes away, but I tell him to wait.
“Get everyone together,” I say and lay out my plan.
Vito doesn’t like it. He cackles like a madman and tells me I’m insane for even suggesting it. But when I push, he finally relents.
“Five minutes, little Don,” he says and hangs up the phone.
I shove it into my pocket. “I don’t love that nickname,” I murmur before finding Davide. “In five minutes, we need to have every single one of our soldiers laying down cover fire. Do you hear me?”
“You have a plan.” His eyes narrow. “Does it involve killing everyone down there?”
“No, it involves saving our fucking family. Spread the word.”
Chapter 47
Simon
It’s the longest five minutes of my life.
Davide’s men are spread out along the east side of the street, while Dad’s soldiers are on the west, but they’ve been communicating and trying to coordinate since the attack happened. It’s an uneasy truce, but a common enemy makes everyone shut the fuck up and start working together, so there’s that.