Chapter 160

Chaos immediately erupts in the room and I scream in horror, unable to turn away from what I can see over Frankie’s shoulder.

The gunshots ring out through the air, almost deafening in the tiny room, but Frankie doesn’t even flinch, simply moving his gun precisely around and barely seeming to take aim before he pulls the trigger. Every time he does, another body falls.

I’m gasping for more air, pulling it in for another shriek as Frankie fires his fourth bullet, which drops Bonetti. Then I watch in horror as he turns the gun almost peacefully back to the Romano side and fires a fifth bullet before dropping the weapon to his side. I freeze for a moment and then peek around him, gasping and shaking when I see that that one was perhaps overkill – finding it’s mark in the center of Romano’s forehead even when he’s laying in a puddle of his own blood that seeps from his neck.

“Back,” Frankie murmurs, tucking me away behind him. “Don’t look, Iris.”

I do as he says, trembling as I pull myself behind the shield of his body, where it’s safe. Because seconds have passed –

Seconds – just seconds – not even a full minute –

And five men have lost their lives.

Even as I press my eyes shut and lean my forehead against Frankie’s spine, the scene before me plays out in my mind. Five men dead – Bonetti, his two men, Romano and…and Lorenzo.

Lorenzo, dead.

God, fuck, had that always been part of the plan?

“Tony.” Christian’s voice echoes in the room which is silent except for Lucy’s terrified sobs. “Do you want to explain yourself?” My eyes move to my husband, going wide when I see that he’s covered in blood – his face, his shirt – his shoes, soaking in it…

“Fuck, Chris!” Tony explodes, tears on his own voice. “What the fuck did you just do!?”

“What the fuck did you do!?”

My eyes open and I peer around Frankie, wanting to see. He glances back at me with a sigh but doesn’t stop me, shifting his stance so that he holds his gun ready in front of him. I stare as Christian, livid, grabs Tony by the collar.

“Why the fuck did you do it, Tony!?” he shouts, shaking him. “You fucking betrayed me – you told dad about the oath –“

“I had to, Chris!” Tony cries, shoving Christian hard and making him stumble back. “You know how he is – and he was livid after Bonetti came to the house! And you – you fucking killed him!”

Tony’s voice cracks on the last word as he turns away from Christian and looks down at his father’s corpse, a soft moan of grief escaping his lips. Lucy cries harder, trembling, pressed against the wall.

Nico, across the room, stands up straight, Bonetti’s phone and car keys in his hand. “Wrap this up, Chris,” he says, more cool and even than I thought it possible to be after these events. “We want to get out of here. I have no idea what Bonetti prepared as backup in case he doesn’t come out of here when we do.”

I glance to my left to see Calvin standing trembling against the wall, looking at the corpses of his cousins like he knows he’s next.

“You fucking…you fucking killed Lorenzo…” Tony whispers, turning to stare at his dead brother in horror.

“He was dad’s man,” Christian says, stepping away from Tony, his eyes moving to Frankie and to me as I stand behind my bodyguard, trembling with shock and horror. “He was going to take me out.”

“He was your fucking brother!” Tony screams.

Christian snaps his head back to glare at Tony. “I was never any of your brothers except by blood – and you fucking know it. Only dad’s pride kept me in that house. My house, now.”

Tony cries out, his hands going to his head, a wordless cry of agony as he stares down at the floor.

Christian ignores him, moving back towards us even as he looks to Nico. “Let the hostage go,” he says, sharp. “I want him to go back to the Bonetti family, tell them what happened here. Tell them who is in charge now – of the Romanos, and of them.” He looks Calvin in the eye, stopping in front of Frankie. “Tell them anyone who disobeys or takes a step towards me gets the same treatment. If I take out my brothers this easily, imagine what it means to me to take out men loyal to my enemy.”

My jaw drops as I realize that the violence is not over – that it has perhaps just begun. That this is…this is a bloodbath, a war.

“Brothers?” Frankie asks, his voice soft, drawing Christian’s gaze over to us.

“Kill him,” Christians says, nodding to Frankie once before striding for Nico. “He can’t be trusted.”

It takes me half a second to realize what Christian said, but he’s already gone and I barely have time to scream before Frankie raises his gun again and fires one more bullet.

It finds its spot, of course.

Right in Tony’s head.

I scream again, horrified as Tony’s body collapses to the floor. The sound I make – the horrible wail – is matched only by Lucy’s as she collapses next to her fiancé, screaming his name, reaching for him like she can fix it – like she can bring him back -

My own legs give out, my knees going weak and I fall forward against Frankie, who stands strong, taking my weight. I sob into the fabric at the back of his suit jacket, horrified and terrified, disbelieving.

“Let’s go!” Christian barks, striding for the door. “Nico, get Lucy –“

I snap my head up, something about this command bringing me back to myself, and I turn my soaking face towards my husband, suddenly terrified.

“Are you going to kill her!?” I shout, horrified.

Christian spins to me, looking at me for the first time since we entered the room. He looks me up and down once, his jaw tensing, guilt passing for an instant over his face as he sees that I am wrecked, body and soul, but what I have seen today.

“No, Iris,” he answers, looking me in the eye. “I’m not going to kill her. I’m not a monster.”

But I just gape at him, honestly wondering how on earth he can make that claim.

A muscle flickers in Christian’s jaw as he takes in my reaction but he steels himself against whatever emotions pass through him now, becoming again the Mafia King, the cold businessman who does whatever is necessary to take the power that is his.

“Let’s go,” he says, low and even as Nico crosses the room, stepping through puddles of blood to get to Lucy, who lays prone over Tony, his blood soaking into her dress.

Frankie steps away from me and I stumble, almost falling to the floor. He turns, fast, to catch me, but I flinch away when his gun – the muzzle still hot – touches my arm.

Christian turns and strides from the room.

“Iris,” Frankie whispers, and I snap my head back to look up into his face. “We’ve got to get out of here, okay?”

I have absolutely no response. I just stare at him – at this man who is my friend, but who murdered five men today at my husband’s command.

“Iris!” Frankie says again, giving me a little shake. “I’ll carry you if I have to, but we have to go. It would be…” he glances at the door, “it will be better for you if you walk on your own two feet. All right?”

I just shake my head at him. Because I don’t think I can do it.

“You can,” he says, nodding slowly to me, tucking his gun into his pocket – or somewhere, I don’t really know where – and wrapping an arm warm around my shoulders. “Come on, baby. I’ve got you. Lean on me.”

So I do – still looking up into his face – not wanting to look anywhere else in the room – I lean against Frankie, letting him take my weight. He takes a step forward and I do too. Nico gets out of the room before us, a sobbing Lucy in his arms, her face turned into his chest. But Frankie and I follow soon after in small, measured steps.

And together, our eyes locked on one another’s, we leave the room, and walk down the short hallway, and into Lupa. We leave only Calvin behind, trembling, in a room full of corpses.

And then out of the bar, into the absurd sunshine. Because how – how can the sun be shining. How can it be day.