Page 17 of Darkest Sin

There are guns inside—probably my guns—but considering the casual stance of the assholes within, they still have not yet been alerted to our presence. There seems to be no children inside, but I’m not surprised. Deago wouldn’t be foolish enough to have his family here tonight, not so soon after waging war with the most powerful mafia family in the country. And the fact that he fails to have a security team on standby only goes to show just how naive he is. He thinks he’s untouchable, that my team would not be able to sniff him out, yet here we are, more than ready to take back what belongs to us.

Giving the signal to my men, we all move in as one. Like a well-oiled machine, we all know our part, and within seconds, we’ve breached every entrance on the ground level. The gunfire commences around me, and the deafening sound is cathartic. The world comes into hyper-focus, and everything around me slows. I can all but see the bullets whizzing through the air as Donatelli’s men realize too slowly what’s going on.

Before they can even get to their feet and reach for the guns that lay haphazardly around the living room, my men have every single one of them surrounded, and like the greatest symphony, gunfire booms through my ears, and Donatelli’s men begin dropping like flies, not a hint of remorse coming from my men.

They’re soldiers, just as I’ve trained them to be. They’re relentless, callous, and cruel. My will is their way, and if they were to fail me, they’d be nothing but a forgotten body next to the men they’ve slain tonight.

Deago stands in a panic in the center of his living room, watching in horror as his men fall around him like toy soldiers. Screams ricochet from every corner of the mansion as my men spread out, searching for anyone who might have gotten away. The staccato beat of gunshots begins to slow as my men search the upper levels.

I don’t need to say a word, I don’t need to even whisper an order, my men just know what’s expected of them, and without fail, they execute my every desire. There has always been unrest within my family, always a power struggle—especially with men like Sergiu who will never be satisfied with second best—but when it comes to defending our family, we have never been so in sync.

BANG! BANG!

Two more bodies fall with a heavy thump against the floor as the echo of the gunshots bursts through my chest, and a sick satisfaction fills my veins.

Blood splatters the walls and lines the marble tiles in a deep crimson that would look absolutely delicious on Chiara’s lips, and the moment Deago finally pulls himself together enough to try and command control of the few men left on their feet, it’s already too late. He knows this is a losing game, but that doesn’t stop him from trying.

“KILL THEM,” he orders what’s left of his men in a last-ditch effort to save himself.

With blood coating his face and shaking hands, he scrambles for a gun dropped by one of his fallen men, but I don’t dare allow him the chance—not with the twenty-three lives that were lost last night still fresh in my head. Just as his fingers curl around the handle, I lift my hand and shoot a perfect, clean shot straight through the center of his wrist.

Deago screams and drops to his knees as he clutches his hand, his attention now firmly on me. I stride toward him with Sergiu at my side, and I watch with amusement as Deago tries to inch away.

He knows what’s coming for him.

“Even think about touching me, and my men will end you,” Deago spits.

I hold my hands out, making a show of searching the room. “What men?” I ask. “Take a look around. You have no men left.”

As if not having realized, Deago spares a quick glance around the blood-soaked living room, taking note of the bodies sprawled across the marble floor, not a single body belonging to one of my men. The room falls quiet, the screams fading to nothing but a haunted silence, and the drip, drip, drip of spilled blood spurs me on.

“No,” Deago breathes, shaking his head as he scrambles back to his feet and backs up toward the wall—a blatant mistake my grandfather would have beaten me for. You never back yourself into a corner. Always leave an escape. “No. You can’t kill me. I have a family.”

“As did the men you slaughtered last night,” I growl as his self-importance grates on my nerves.

He shakes his head. “I swear, it was an accident. We never meant to kill anybody. We were only going for the drugs. Nobody was meant to get hurt. We were only attempting to make a name for ourselves. We wanted everyone to know we meant business.”

“And you thought making a stand against the DeLorenzo family was the right way to do that?” I scoff, barely holding back a laugh. “Let me break the bad news. When word of this spreads, you will not be known as a brave man for stealing from me, you will be known as a foolish one who sent your men to be slaughtered. Let me be clear, you will perish here tonight, and you will be remembered as nothing more than a joke. Men will forever hear your name and laugh at your cowardice.”

“Please,” he begs. “I’ll give it all back. Just let me go. Surely you are a forgiving man. It was a moment of weakness, a bad judgment call, but I swear, I’ll never make a stand against you again. I have a wife and three young girls. They need me.”

I shake my head. “Oh, you believe this to be a negotiation? That I was coming here tonight to give you a chance to grovel for forgiveness?” I scoff. “Come on now, Deago. Surely you must know better than that.”

His face drains of all color as my men file out of the property, leaving only my most trusted within the room with me.

“Now,” I start. “You are going to tell me exactly where my product and weapons are and once I have confirmation of their whereabouts, I will then brutally slaughter you like the animal that you are.”

Horror flashes in his dark eyes as he looks around the room for a way out, but he realizes all too late that he’s trapped in a fucking corner. “Kill me then,” he spits, realizing that he’s not making it out of here alive. “But I’m not telling you shit.”

I shrug my shoulders, more than happy to play his little game. “Have it your way, Donatelli,” I murmur, stepping closer with my gun in my hand. “But just know that if I don’t have my product returned, you will die with a debt, and it will be that lovely family you speak of who will inherit that debt. Your wife is probably dried up and overused, but those little girls. I bet I could fetch a fair price for them.”

The suggestion makes me feel sick. I would never lower myself to making a move like that, not even on my worst day. Family is off-limits, no matter if it’s mine or my greatest enemy. There are some lines I simply won’t cross, but Deago certainly doesn’t know that. Hell, once I’m through with Deago, I’ll ensure his family is looked after. Have a home to live in, food on the table, and a good education for his children. The crimes of a father should never burden his children.

Deago’s eyes widen, and he begins to weep, falling back to his knees in surrender as blood pours from the gaping bullet hole in his wrist. It wasn’t a lethal shot, and the artery hasn’t been compromised, but I’ve done this long enough to know that anything could go wrong at a moment’s notice. “Please,” he sobs. “I’ll tell you, just . . . leave my family out of this. They didn’t do anything. They don’t deserve that.”

“Then tell me where my product is, and you will have my word, your family will be left in peace.”

Donatelli sobs, hanging his head low. “My uncle’s home in the Valley. There’s a hidden room behind the tool bench in his garage. You will find all your product there.”

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