Page 180 of Hidden Empire

Her scream curdles as the gun flies out of her grasp, and her pain is distracting enough to overthrow her previous advantage. Before I can blink, Karina is taken to the ground by a single punch, a fast strike to the side of her chin that lands with a hefty thud. A hit delivered by Nico that I hadn’t seen coming.

Still conscious but hurt, she spits out a mouthful of blood and glares up at him. “What a surprise, a Moretti man that hits women.”

“You’re not a woman,” my brother counters. “You’re vermin.”

Nico swings his leg back and swiftly thrusts it forward, kicking Karina’s face like a soccer ball, hard enough that it snaps back with a sickening crack. She’s out like a light, blood splattering the floor around her crumbled face.

My hands shake, slick with blood as I try to hold Uncle Cesar’s chest together. “Y-you’re okay,” I tell him, but the tears streaming down my cheeks are less than convincing. “D-doc can fix you. I?—”

The gunfire has ceased, and Ivan’s voice rings out from afar. “Bruce is down, but so is Anatoly. Shit, he’s alive, though. Fuck! Get medical in here!”

Bruce was here, that’s why someone yelled for Dmitri.

My head shakes, and I cry harder. This isn’t happening. This is a sick nightmare, and I’m going to wake up, and everything will be fine.

My uncle’s mouth sputters and splashes crimson from his lips. “Help your friend, Jade. I—I’m already gone.”

I refuse to believe my ears.

“Daaaad!” I cry, voice cracking.

Cassio is staring down blankly at the man who helped raise him from birth, mentally checking out even as his hands continue to put pressure on fatal wounds.

Uncle Cesar starts to shut his eyes, and I panic. “Noooo, stop it! Dad!”

My father drops to his knees next to me, his head is bleeding on the side, and there’s a bullet wound in his arm, but he doesn’t seem to care.

“Cesar,” he barks, shaking him. “Don’t you fucking dare?—”

“Take care of them,” his dying brother whispers in response, his eyes too heavy to keep open.

My sobs are blinding, tears filling my eyes faster than they can fall. I haven’t had enough time with him yet. It can’t be over.

Please, God, please, it can’t be over.

“Don’t,” my father demands, water dripping down his cheeks.

“I l-lasted longer than I thought.”

Horrible words that every man in this room understands. Being in the mafia, it’s an accomplishment to live into your forties. I just never thought that with all the protection and power we possess as The Outfit, that any of this could happen to us.

Strong arms enclose around me from behind, and without even looking back, I know it’s Dmitri. “Please tell me you’re not hurt,” I beg, sealing my eyes shut in case the worst has happened.

“I’m okay, baby,” he murmurs against my ear. “Come on, give your father some space to mourn.” Mourn, what a horrible word.

I turn into his hold, throwing my arms around him and allowing him to pull me off of the bloody floor.

How did this happen?

“My uncle,” I cry, holding onto him for strength. “It’s not fair.”

“I know, baby, I know,” he soothes, stroking my hair.

I can hear my dad pleading with his brother to keep breathing, but I’m afraid it’s too late for that. There was so much blood.

“He’s dead, isn’t he?” I croak, barely whispering loud enough for him to hear.

“He’s gone, Krasotka,” he confirms. “I’m sorry, but he’s gone.”

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