Page 51 of The Mafia's Second Shot

Then it happens.

A garbled message comes through the radio, the voice barely audible over the static. “...Cooper... heading... Rossi.”

I freeze, my heart pounding. “Repeat that,” I say, gripping the edge of the table. “What about Cooper?”

“...gone after Rossi... alone,” the voice repeats, slightly clearer this time.

“No,” I whisper, the weight of the words sinking in. “He wouldn’t.”

But deep down, I know he would. This fight has always been personal for Cooper. Rossi isn’t just an enemy—he’s a ghost from Cooper’s past, a constant reminder of everything he’s lost. Of course he’d go after him alone.

“Marco’s with him, right?” I ask Angelo, my voice trembling.

Angelo hesitates, and that hesitation tells me everything I need to know. “Marco was regrouping with Team Three,” he says quietly. “Cooper’s on his own.”

I push backfrom the table, the chair screeching against the concrete floor. “I have to go.”

Angelo steps in front of me, his expression firm. “You can’t, Zoey. Cooper needs you here. This command center?—”

“Isn’t where I need to be,” I snap, cutting him off. “He’s out there, alone, and if something happens to him...”

Angelo sighs, glancing at the others in the room. “Marco would kill me if I let you leave.”

“Then don’t let me,” I say, my voice softer now. “But I’m going anyway.”

He steps aside reluctantly, his jaw tight. “Be careful.”

“I will,” I promise, grabbing a pistol and a radio before heading for the exit. The moment I step outside, the cold air hits me like a slap, but it does nothing to dull the fear coursing through me.

The journeyto the yard is harrowing. The closer I get, the louder the sounds of the battle become—gunfire, shouts, the occasional explosion. The ground is littered with debris, and the air smells of smoke and sweat.

I stick to the shadows, moving as quietly as I can. My heart races with every step, the fear of being spotted making my movements deliberate and cautious. But the chaos around me is overwhelming, and it’s clear that Rossi’s forces are putting up a brutal fight.

I pass a group of Cooper’s men huddled behind a stack of crates, their guns trained on an approaching vehicle. One of them spots me, his eyes widening in surprise.

“Zoey? What the hell are you doing here?”

“Looking for Cooper,” I reply, my voice low but firm. “Which way did he go?”

The man hesitates, then points toward the center of the yard. “He was heading that way. Be careful—it’s a war zone.”

“Thanks,” I say, moving before he can stop me.

The deeper I go,the worse it gets. Bodies litter the ground, and the sound of gunfire is deafening. I keep moving, my grip on the pistol tightening as I scan every shadow for danger. My fear is a constant hum in the back of my mind, but I push it aside, focusing on one thing: finding Cooper.

I spot him before I hear him.

He’s near the center of the yard, locked in a brutal fight with a man I recognize instantly as Rossi. They’re circling each other like predators, their movements deliberate and deadly. Cooper’s gun is trained on Rossi, but so is Rossi’s on him.

I freeze, my breath catching in my throat. They’re too far away for me to intervene, and the chaos around them makes it impossible to get closer without drawing attention.

“Cooper,” I whisper, my voice trembling.

He doesn’t hear me. He’s too focused, his entire body coiled with tension as he takes a step closer to Rossi. The hatred between them is palpable, an electric charge in the air.

I grip the pistol tighter, my mind racing. I have to do something. But before I can move, Rossi lunges, and the fight escalates into something far more dangerous.

The battlefield fades away as I watch them, my heart pounding in my chest. This isn’t just a fight—it’s the culmination of everything that’s brought us here. And as much as I want to believe Cooper will come out on top, the fear that he won’t claws at me relentlessly.

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