The Italian Read online T.L. Swan

Categories Genre: Angst, Romance Tags Authors: T.L. Swan Advertisement1

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A click sounds from the side as someone else takes aim.

A gunshot rings out.

One of Lombardi’s men falls.

I take this momentary distraction as a cue, and I rush them. I grab Lombardi’s gun and we struggle over it. It fires in the air. I hit him in the head hard, and his grip loosens. I push Olivia out of the way, and she falls to the floor.

“Move!” I yell at her.

The gun is held above his head as we fight over it.

I punch him hard in the face again and again.

I have never hated anyone as much as I hate this man.

I hear another five rounds of gunfire from Jennifer and Diego as Lombardi and I struggle on the floor.

I’m hit across the head with a vase from behind as another man attacks me. Olivia screams, and I momentarily lose focus at the sound of her pained voice.

Lombardi gets up and runs.

I roll onto my stomach and take aim at Lombardi. I fire off a single shot that hits him in the leg just as he disappears out of the door. Then I turn and shoot his other man who is moving over me. Once clear, I jump to my feet, pick Olivia up, and I look in the direction after Lombardi.

Did I hit him? Did I get him?

“Watch her,” I order Jennifer.

Without another thought, I take chase and run out after Lombardi. I can see the trail of blood guiding me closer.

Yes! I got him.

The trail of blood disappears into the nearby forest. I reach around to the back of my pants to find the other gun is gone.

Fuck.

I only have the knife now.

I take it out and clutch it tightly as I follow the trail of blood into the darkness.

And then, without the moonlight to guide me, I lose his trail.

I stand at the edge of the forest for a moment and I slowly walk in.

I have no idea if he’s still armed. I know I took one gun from his grip, but I don’t know if he had anything else on him.

The echoing of crickets and the noise of the waterfall in the distance are the only sounds.

I step slowly through the dense foliage.

I don’t have shoes on, and it’s difficult to walk on the uneven and sharp ground.

My eyes scan the dense landscape. Tall trees block the moonlight. Out here, it’s nearly pitch-black.

Where are you?

He would have seen me walk in with the moonlight behind me. I duck down into the foliage and crawl out of sight.

I sit still for ten minutes and slowly allow my eyes to adjust. I can soon see a lot more than I could before. I pick up a small rock and hurl it as far away as I can. It hits a tree a fair distance away with a bang.

I slowly climb to my feet and scan the forest as I grip the knife in my hand.

I see a shadow on the hill, and I creep toward it.

It’s him. I can see his chest sucking in air as he gasps for breath. He’s losing a lot of blood.

Does he have a weapon?

I hunch down and make my way toward him.

“Ferrara!” he cries.

I stay silent.

“Ferrara! Let’s make a deal!” he calls, his voice echoing over the valley.

He’s bleeding out and he knows it.

I throw a rock and it lands next to him. He jumps back in fear.

He’s unarmed.

I stand up and show myself, knife in hand as I slowly walk toward him.

His eyes hold mine. “We can be great together. We can join forces—be the strongest syndicate the world has ever seen.” He’s wet with perspiration, and he’s desperate.

I hunch down beside him. “You’re dying, Lombardi.”

He pants.

“I guess you’re not so lucky after all.”

“Enrico,” he whispers. “I’ve always admired you.”

My skin prickles. I know he would say anything to try and gain my sympathy. I glare at the lying bastard sitting propped up against the tree.

Die.

“We could run the biggest crime syndicate in the world. With your connections…and my…” He coughs, and blood splutters from his mouth.

His face falls as he realizes what’s happening, and he reaches out for me. “Help me.”

I kneel down and watch the life slowly drain out of him.

Eye to eye.

I want to see the moment he passes. I want to taste the victory of retribution.

“Enri…” He coughs, and a large amount of blood comes from his mouth.

His face falls and he grabs for me again. He lets out a pained gargling sound.

I watch on in fascination.

I’ve never watched someone die before.

I’ve seen people pass, but I’ve always fought to save them.

I’ve been frantic with words of encouragement and prayer.

I envision myself dragging his head back by the hair and slicing his throat.

I would have loved to have taken his life myself, but that would have been too kind.


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