Page 172 of SINS & Riley
Enzo.
“One. Hundred. Million. For Zver’s head,” he calls out, his voice slicing through the theater. Then colder, deadlier. “The bastard’s been blowing up my buildings all over town. So before anyone outbids me, I’ll make it simple. I’ll put a bullet in him right here, right now, in front of all you fine people. A sacrifice to the God of War.”
The crowd loses their absolute shit.
The masses ignite, a pack of wolves drunk on the scent of fresh kill.
My gut knots, twisting me inside out.
I could shout the truth. I could beg him—Enzo, it’s me. Don’t do this. For the love of God, don’t kill me.
But… I can’t.
If I give myself up, I don’t just sign my own death warrant—I put Enzo in the line of fire too. And then it’ll be open season on every D’Angelo.
So I face him.
My own brother.
Knowing he’ll be the one to end my life.
And when he carves the mask from my corpse and sees my face, I’ll be the one to destroy him.
Someone from the Keenan's speaks. “The bid is accepted. The kill is yours, Enzo.”
The cage door screeches open.
Enzo steps inside, gun steady, eyes colder than ice.
“So…” he exhales slowly. “Who do we have here?”
His hand jerks at the mask.
It holds firm.
Thank God.
Then his fist connects.
White-hot pain detonates across my jaw, my skull ringing like a church bell. Chains keep me upright when I should already be face-down.
For the record, this is a low blow—he’s a prize MMA fighter.
And me? Shackled.
I spit blood, steal a breath, and manage a smile.
“You know, Zver,” he growls, “I’m gonna miss this. You blowing up my buildings. Me vowing vengeance. This thing we’ve got.”
“Not as much as I am,” I admit. Honest, for once.
“Any parting words?” He steps back, about ten paces, levels the biggest Glock I’ve ever seen right at my chest.
My throat works around a swallow. I pray silently—You are loved. You are my brother. Please forgive yourself, Enzo.
And then I say the only thing that might save us both.
“Take care of your wife. And her sister—as if she was your own.”
