Page 127 of Ruthless Mafia Daddy

And they need me more than ever. So, I stand taller.

Lila is counting on me.

I failed to keep her safe, but I won’t fail again.

Lila, sweetheart, hang tight. I’m coming for you.

40

ANDRE

Dez storms the door leading down to the basement, his gun already firing before we’ve even reached the bottom of the stairs.

Gunfire rings in my ears as I fire my weapon at the dozen or so men huddled around tables, stacks of packaged cocaine surrounding them.

They barely have a chance to pull their own weapons before I embed bullets between their eyes and watch with delight as the light slowly drains from them before they hit the floor.

A few more appear from storage rooms to our left.

Before I have a chance to aim, an arm is around my neck.

I send my elbow back, knocking the wind out of the fucker before whirling and smashing my gun into the side of his head, knocking him out.

I put a bullet through his head before he even hits the floor, the blood spraying my skin like scarlet rain.

I glance behind me.

Sloan’s in a hand-to-hand fight with a guy even bigger than he is.

He manages to get a few hits to Sloan’s jaw, whose head snaps to the side.

Sloan’s lip is split, and he has the start of a black eye forming, but there’s such wildness in his eyes that I know that there’s no way Lorenzo’s guy is walking away from this.

“Need a hand, Sloan?” I release my empty magazine and load up a new one.

“I got this one, boss.” He grabs the guy by the shoulders, rearing his head back and smashing it straight into his nose.

“Ouch.” I chuckle as the guy groans, blood spurting from his broken nose.

He stumbles backwards, straight into Dez who wraps his hands around his head and twists, instantly snapping his neck.

The guy falls to the floor like a ragdoll, and Dez and Sloan grin at each other as they step over the body.

I glance to my left and see my brother crouched low in the corner behind one of the tables. “Marco?”

He’s grunting with effort, and as I approach, I notice his hands wrapped around the neck of a guy, slamming his head repeatedly into the concrete floor. Blood spills out beneath him as his skull disintegrates, coating my brother’s hands red as he takes every last ounce of life from the man.

“I think you made your point.” I place a hand on my brother’s shoulder.

“You wanted the place flooded with blood,” Marco grits out. “Plus, the fucker tried to break my jaw.”

Sloan chuckles. “And that’s your best feature.”

“Exactly.” Marco slams the guy one last time against the floor before releasing his hold around his neck. “Did we get them all?”

Looks around. “Looks like it.”

A phone starts ringing.

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