Chapter 34: Merciless Prince: Chapter 33

Every family head is already in the ballroom when Dad and I march in. That is, every family head except for Manuel Vignotto. But even he isn’t far behind.

He stumbles in a few minutes later, looking a little pissed off that I chose to take this meeting before his. Or maybe he just spotted my tail. Either way, he keeps his mouth shut. It makes me wonder if the rest of The Family knows about his supposed prize captive.

It hardly matters. I match Manuel’s fiery glare as he stands above his seat and shoves a suitcase onto the table. He must have brought something important. Perhaps his first show of true fealty will be to present his findings on Dmitry Gazin and the Black Delphi to me in front of everyone. Show his worth. It might help to kick the rest of these fuckers into high gear, but I’m not holding out hope. There’s a suppressed panic in Manuel’s gaze that I figure must mean he’s either hiding something from me again or he’s afraid of what he’s found.

I’ll drag it out of him soon enough.

When I raise my hand, the room goes quiet and everyone sits down. Everyone, that is, except for Manuel. There are no other family members or bodyguards at this meeting, so his defiance is anything but subtle.

“Had a rough night?” I challenge him.

“You don’t know the half of it.”

“Sit down,” someone whispers.

No one moves.

“What’s in the briefcase?” I ask.

That draws a smile from the stony-faced Italian. “Something that I think you’ll like very much.” He turns his attention to the other members at the table. “I found Dmitry Gazin, and I know what he wants.”

A flurry of gasps and hushed whispers make their way around the table before I raise my hand again and everything goes quiet.

“Did you find this out in much the same way you ‘found’ Ciro?” My accusation seems to disturb Manuel.

“Are you accusing me of working with the Russians?”

“I’m accusing you of working against me.” My sudden attack seems to take everybody off guard. Even Dad places a calming hand on my shoulder. But I’m not soothed.

Something isn’t right. I’m tired of playing around.

“Don Kilpatrick, please do not act so hastily!” Leo Camporese stands up from his chair. “Manuel may not be quite as old as the rest of us, but he knows his place. None of us would ever betray you. Not again. We are here as proof of that. Our loyalty is yours.”

I ignore the doddering old fool. “And your loyalty, Manuel. Does it belong to me?”

Manuel sneers and shoves his chair aside. “Let me prove where my loyalty lies.” He steps around the table and I clench my fists, ready for a fight. There are no weapons allowed in here, and that means a brawl. But it also puts me at an advantage. Manuel isn’t a pushover—he’s built like a bowling ball—but he’s no match for me. Especially if I’m pissed.

But he doesn’t walk down the table towards me. Instead, he moves towards the same door he let Ciro out of during our last meeting.

Did this fucker bring Dmitry Gazin here?

“I don’t want another of your fucking surprises, Manuel,” I snap.

Before I can step forward to stop him, he opens the door. Anticipation sucks the air out of the room.

But no one comes out of the blackness of the doorway. Instead, Manuel slips behind the threshold, and with a final Cheshire grin, he slams the door shut behind him.

“What the fuck is—”

I don’t have time to finish. A deafening blast erupts from ahead and I’m thrown from the table.

Pain flashes up my neck as my head hits the ground with a snap. Dark smoke fills the air. The world goes black.

When I come to, it’s like waking up in hell. A harsh ring pierces my eardrums. A fiery ache blankets my body.

With great effort, I manage to blink away the pain and open my eyes. Black spots litter my vision as I pull myself off the ground. It’s a slough just to get on my ass, and when I finally do, dark smoke billows down my airways, causing me to cough something fierce. There’s a sharp pain in my lungs, but a wave of relief washes over me when I checked my limbs. Everything is still there. Everything is still moving.

But that wave of relief is quickly demolished by a seawall of dread.

Dad!

My head pounds as I search for his silhouette through the smoke. “Dad!” The air is so thick that my voice dies the moment it leaves my lips. “Dad!” I yell again, ignoring the suffocating pain.

“Aiden…”

I have to crawl on my hands and knees to avoid the blanket of smoke that covers the room, but I do so furiously. Towards the voice. “Aiden…” But the further I scramble the fainter it gets.

And then I see him.

“Dad!” It’s immediately clear that something is seriously wrong. He lays flat on his back with a hand reaching up to the sky.

When I break through the last layer of smoke that separates us, I realize that it’s not his hand sticking up in the air, it’s a sharp piece of the obliterated table. The wood has impaled him through the chest.

The horror of realizing that is far more intense than any other pain. “Can you move?” Dad furrows his brows at my question. He stares off into oblivion, teetering on the edge. But his eyes find mine when I lay a hand on his shoulder. I need to get him out of here.

Before he can answer, a string of gunshots erupt through the quiet air. Through the smoke, I can see the flashes of a muzzle making its way around the room. Each strike signals the end of one of the heads of The Family. Someone is here finishing off the job that Manuel Vignotto started.

That bastard. He betrayed us all. I’ll fucking kill him…

The shots approach. The ringing in my ears begins to fade as I gather myself, trying to formulate a plan of action to get us out of here. I’m unarmed, but I need to do something.

Then I feel my phone buzzing. It’s then that I remember the tail I put on Manuel. “Where are you fuckers?” I answer in a deep whisper. Dad still hasn’t spoken. I try to bring him back to life with a few gentle slaps to the cheek.

“We’re still outside. We heard a blast, is everything alright?”

“No! Get the fuck in here. Manuel planted a bomb and then ran off. It exploded!”

“Oh fuck!” I hear my men rushing out of their watch car.

“Bring weapons,” I order, keeping my eye on the approaching flashes of death. “Someone is in here trying to finish us off.”

“Manuel’s vehicle is still here, should one of us keep watch?”

“No! Fuck Manuel. Get in here now!” All that matters now is getting Dad to a hospital. His breaths are raspy and labored and I fear anyone of them could be his last. I’ll deal with that treacherous scum Manuel later, even if I have to hunt him to the ends of the earth. Right now, Dad is my main priority.

“Aiden…”

A nearby gun-shot makes me flinch. The grim reaper is approaching. “Dad, just stay awake. Help is coming. We’ll get you out of here, I pr—”

Dad shuts me up with a subtle shake of his head. “Go,” he rasps, reaching up to touch me one last time. His fingers find my cheek and then fall to the floor.

“No.”

“Triquetra.” His final word is followed by the sound of a door being burst open at the far side of the room. A gun fight erupts as my men take aim at the violent shadows.

“I’ll be right back. Don’t move,” I tell him. I just need a gun. I’ll end every fucker in here if only I can get my hands on a gun. With a heavy hesitation, I crawl away from my wounded dad and towards my men.

But my men don’t last long. They’re quickly picked off, and they fall to the ground, useless before I can get too far. Still, I scramble towards their fallen weapons.

Behind me, the gunshots go silent. The roar is replaced by the sound of heavy footsteps. I’m trapped between the guns and my father.

Through the smoke, I hear the devil speak.

“Sergey Barinov sends his regards.”

A shadow raises its gun to my dying dad and shoots.

“NO!”

But it’s too late. Next, the gun is turned my way. The roar of the shot that killed Dad hasn’t even settled before a new cacophony comes after me.

A bullet nips at my heel and I have to roll into the darkest part of the smoke just to avoid its followers. The whole world becomes a harsh landscape of blackness and thunder, but somehow, I manage to find the door my men fell at. Their corpses cover two sniper rifles. They never had a chance. In a close combat situation like this, snipers just aren’t nearly quick enough to compete against a handgun. Still, I don’t have much of a choice. I grab one and roll behind the doorway for cover. Just as I do, a chunk of it splinters against the force of a bullet meant for me.

“You fucking bastard!” I shout through the smoke as I prime my gun. It’s locked and loaded just in time to see another flash cut through the darkness ahead. That bullet hits the beam above me. In response, I turn and shoot one of my own.

“B’lyad’!” It must hit, because the voice is sharp with pain.

I’m going to obliterate this motherfucker. The fucking Russians. Manuel betrayed his own family for these assholes.

I fire another shot in the same area as the last one, but I don’t get a reaction this time. Another shot gives me the same result. Then, before I can fire a third, I see a red flame lash through the smoke. It grows bigger and bigger until a chorus of giant flames join it.

This place is going up like a fucking tinderbox.

“Dad!” I shout through the chaos. But I know he’s dead. He was dying when I left him, and that Russian fuck made sure he didn’t balk.

The smoke and the sorrow blur my vision with rage-filled tears. There’s nothing I can do. I failed him.

Triquetra.

Believe.

Believe in what? This whole world is shit. It’s filled with death and darkness and endless conflict. I want to charge into the fire and sacrifice myself to the flames in the name of vengeance. I’ll take whoever did this down with me.

But deep down, I know they’ve already left.

I’m the only one alive in this burning building.

Triquetra.

It’s another word for the Trinity Knot. A symbol of Celtic belief. My mother had it tattooed on her wrist. Dad said it made her a goddess. Mom said it reminded her to believe, even in the harshest of times. When she died, Dad started to use it that way too.

Believe.

It was his last word to me.

I think of Mom and I think of him. Dead. There’s no amount of belief that will bring them back.

But then I think of Nolan and Shane. I think of Elisa.

They need me. I can’t die here.

One last long look into the oncoming fire calms me enough to make the right decision. I turn my back and run, and as I run, the building begins to collapse. I’m barely out on the street before the grimy façade crumbles into rubble.

In the distance, I hear sirens and I know I can’t stick around. But I don’t want to leave Dad. I can’t miss out on a final goodbye to another parent. So, I stand frozen in the light of the fire for longer than I should. The sirens are practically on top of me when I finally snap out of my daze to feel my phone buzzing off the hook in my pocket.

“What!?” I answer, ready to kill the world.

“Where the fuck are you?” It’s Nolan. He obviously doesn’t know what just happened. Dad’s dead. I can’t say it. Not over the phone.

“Where are you?” I ask, backing away from the flames.

“With Shane. We just made a big catch.”

There’s no room in me for excitement. Only fury manages to find root in my rotting heart. “Who do you have?” I hope it’s one of these fucking Russians. It’s obvious now that Ciro was working with them all along. So was Manuel. They’ll all get their due.

I’m about to order Nolan to send some more of our cops over to Calligastaro’s to make sure nothing is happening with Ciro when he interrupts my train of thought with a bombshell.

“Felix Difrancesco. Elisa’s old bodyguard. Some of our boys found him sneaking around the woods up near the manor. They have him now. We’re waiting on your orders.”

My fists clench hard enough to draw blood. Or is that someone else’s blood dripping from my hand? The image of Dad burning up in the fire before me makes me blind with rage.

Everyone is in danger. Elisa included. This fucker Felix had to be involved in this. The timing is too suspicious.

“Bring him to my penthouse,” I order. “Put him on the helicopter. I don’t care. I’m going to make him fucking scream.”