Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 111537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Giovanni dives down right beside me, and we roll away like two combat veterans. I hear a car door open and look up just in time to see Andretti jumping into the passenger seat. He’s getting away.
I fire as many shots as I can at the tires, hoping to force the driver to abandon his rescue attempt. But I miss, and most of my shots hit the hubcaps. The car does a donut, barreling out of the lot the same way it came in.
I chase after it, firing off the last of my rounds until my gun is empty. I’ll be forced to go back around to the front of the warehouse to get my car if I want to give chase. And by then, it will be too late. Andretti will have escaped and gone to ground in whatever safe house he has lined up.
“Francisco!” a voice shouts.
I turn around, not expecting to see Marcello. He’s burned his bridge but there he is, standing in the middle of the lot as if he’s on my side. I don’t know where he came from or why he thinks he can pull the wool over my eyes again, but I’m not going to stand for it.
I raise my weapon and fire it point-blank. But I’m out of bullets, and all I hear is a metallic click. Marcello smiles at me. We’re standing right out in the open now, and there’s nowhere I can turn for cover. He’s got me, and he knows it. As he raises his weapon, the facade he’s been hiding behind finally vanishes. I can see him for who he truly is, someone who fooled me and my father, before me.
“I thought of you like family!” I shout, furious that he’s betrayed me, betrayed the family that gave him everything.
“Truly! Is that what you really think? If I was your family, I wouldn’t get your scraps when you have a fortune,” Marcello spits.
“Is that what this is about?” I demand. “Money?”
“Isn’t that what it’s always about?” Marcello counters.
“How long have you been working for Andretti?” I shout.
“Long enough,” he says matter-of-factly, like that’s not important when that’s the farthest thing from the truth.
“Then what was all that about a mole in my organization?” I question, trying to fit all the pieces together. I need to know. I need answers almost as much as I need to keep him talking so I can figure out how I’m going to get out of this alive. I have too much to live for. “Why turn me on to your own betrayal?”
Marcello shrugs. “It was Andretti’s idea. He wanted to see if you would be able to figure out who was on his payroll. Turns out you couldn’t, and well, I finally had enough. I had enough of following your orders, of being your little lap dog. Taking your little wife was just a bonus. Not that any of that matters now because you are going to die. I bet you never saw that coming.”
I think about Marlena, and how that one pure relationship has changed my life. In such a short span of time, she’s made me see what really matters. I have to admit, I’m not angry that Andretti has challenged my authority. I’m not angry that he crossed a line or insulted my family’s honor. I’m scared that my wife came so close to losing her life, and more importantly, that I came that close to losing someone I care deeply about.
“You’re going to pay for what you’ve done,” I swear.
“Oh, really?” he taunts me. “That seems a bit premature considering that I’ve got a weapon and you don’t.”
Just then, Giovanni charges from behind Marcello, knocking him to the ground. I spring into action, kicking Marcello as they writhe around in the dirt. I want to choke the life out of him with my bare hands, and no one is going to stand in my way.
Giovanni cries out. I kicked him instead by accident. I crouch beside them in an attempt to pull them apart, but Marcello is a slippery one. He kicks me in the shoulder, and I fall back on my ass. Giovanni rears up, punching Marcello in the face, but even that doesn’t stop him.
The gun goes off, and time seems to stand still for a minute. I half expect someone to clutch their heart in agony, but it seems that no one was hurt. Giovanni grabs Marcello’s gun hand, attempting to rip it away. I stomp on the man’s knee, hearing the first blessed scream coming from the traitor’s mouth. But even though he’s hurt, he’s not down for the count. He pushes away, hobbling once before coming back with a vengeance.
Marcello straddles Giovanni, digging his weapon into my brother’s temple. “Step back!” he spits, foaming at the mouth. “Step back, or I swear I’ll kill him!”