Page 79 of The Bonventi Secret
The sound of gunshots erupts, echoing off the buildings. Through the shop window, I see people screaming, diving for cover, coffee cups and laptops forgotten. Alex stumbles backward, red blooming across his chest. His eyes meet mine for a fraction of a second before he falls, disappearing from view.
I can't breathe. This can't be happening. My hands shake as they fumble for the door handle, my mind screaming at me to run, to help, to do something – anything.
The door won't budge.
It's fucking locked.
Suddenly, a deafening crash. Pain explodes across my face as glass rains down on me. I throw my arms up, feeling sharp stings as shards slice my skin.
A gloved hand reaches through the broken window. I scream, trying to scramble away, but there's nowhere to go. The door flies open, and I'm yanked out of the car with brutal force, my shoulder wrenching painfully.
"Shut up!" a deep voice snarls. A thick arm wraps around my waist, pinning my arms to my sides. I struggle, kicking wildly, but it's like fighting against a steel beam. My heel connects with something solid, earning a grunt, but the arm only tightens.
Something presses against my face – a damp cloth that smells somewhat sweet. I try to hold my breath, but panic takes over. I gasp, inhaling the chemical scent.
The world starts to spin. My limbs grow heavy, useless. I can hear shouting, screaming, car alarms, but it all sounds like it's underwater. Someone's yelling about cops, about hurrying up.
As darkness creeps in at the edges of my vision, I feel something being thrown over my head. The last thing I'm aware of is the scratch of rough fabric against my skin, and a final, terrifying thought: Enzo was right. I wasn't safe outside the mansion after all.
Then everything fades to black.
ENZO - 29
The glass decanter shatters against the wall, sending shards of glass and whiskey flying across the room. My shoulder throbs from throwing it so hard, but I barely register the pain. All I can focus on is the red-hot fury coursing through my veins.
"I want all those motherfuckers dead. Dead, you hear me?" I roar.
My brothers stand frozen, their eyes wide as they watch me. I can see the shock on their faces, but I don't care. All I care about is Livia.
My Livia.
Taken.
I slam my fist down on the desk, the wood creaking under the impact. My jaw clenches so tight I can hear my teeth grinding. "Get me the footage from Alex's car. I want to know exactly what happened, second by second," I snarl at Tony. "Now!"
Tony nods frantically, already pulling out his phone.
I turn to Marco, "Call your police friends. I want every fucking security camera in a ten-mile radius of that sandwich shop checked."
Gio's already moving, barking orders into his own phone.
"Gio," I yell, my knuckles white as I grip the edge of my desk. "Secure the perimeter. I want every entrance, every exit, every fucking rat hole in this city watched. No one gets in or out without us knowing."
Gio nods sharply, his face set in grim determination.
I take a deep breath, trying to control the trembling in my hands. It doesn't work. "And someone get me an update on Alex's condition. If he's conscious, I want to talk to him. Now."
The room is a flurry of activity, my men scrambling to follow my orders. But it's not enough. It's not fucking enough.
I turn to my brothers, my voice low and deadly. "Get ready. We're going to war."
Gio's eyes harden, a cruel smile appears on his face. "About fucking time," he says, cracking his knuckles.
Marco nods, his usual jovial demeanor replaced by cold fury. "Fuck peace now. We'll make them regret the day they were born," he promises.
"The Rossis think they can take what's mine?" I say, my voice dripping with venom. "We'll show them what happens when you fuck with the Bonventis."
I reach for my phone, ready to mobilize every resource at my disposal. The Rossis wanted a war? They're about to get one.
