Page 41 of Silent Schemes
Sienna tenses, pistol up, breathing slow.
I raise my own gun, take a bead on his head.
He’s not stupid—he’s using the twitching corpse of a hedge fund manager as cover.
“Let’s not make this personal, Rosetti,” I call out.
He laughs. “You killed my brother last month. Hard not to take it personal.”
I risk a peek.
He’s moved again, now ten feet closer.
He shouts, “You’ve got something of mine!”
Sienna slides her gaze to me, but only for a second.
Her lips barely move. “What’s he talking about?”
“No idea,” I say. “But I’m going to find out.”
Matteo gets a clear line and fires.
The round goes through the back of the booth and misses my head by an inch.
The sound leaves my ears ringing.
He’s close now.
Too close.
I point at Sienna, then at the mirror behind the bar.
She nods.
Together, we pop up and fire at the same time.
I hit one of the gunmen in the thigh, dropping him.
Sienna’s shot is cleaner, right through the eye socket of the other one.
Now it’s just Matteo and a single wounded henchman.
He moves faster than I expect, closing the distance, and slamming his shoulder into the booth.
It cracks, then gives.
I go down, lose the gun.
Sienna is still on her knees, but he ignores her, comes for me.
He grabs me by the collar, hauls me upright, slams my head against the wall. “A life for a life,” he growls.
“Where’s the fun in that?” I spit blood in his face and knee him between the legs, but he doesn’t go down.
He headbutts me, and I see stars.
The next part is slow-motion.
