Page 25 of Welcome to the Sins of Blackstone
The moment the first shot rings out, Massimo yanks me behind him. Deep down, I felt it, something would ruin this day.
Screams erupt in the church. Guests dive for cover. Men reach for their weapons. Massimo pulls his gun out from the back waist of his trousers.
The Irish have come for war. I hear the chaos before I see it: bullets slicing through the air, shattering the stained-glass windows, raining shards down onto the wooden pews, as the weather has changed as has the atmosphere in the church. The thunder from outside, is echoing the thunder inside the church.
My uncle shields the altar, his arms outstretched, but Massimo doesn’t let go of me. “Stay behind me.” His voice is sharp, unwavering.
A man rushes toward us, gun raised. Massimo doesn’t hesitate. One shot. Right between the eyes.
I gasp. My stomach lurches. I’ve seen death before, but never like this. Not at my wedding. Another bullet flies hitting Massimo in the shoulder.
He grunts, his body jerking back from the impact, but he doesn’t fall. He doesn’t stop.
“Massimo!” I hear someone yelling his name, but there is too much happening to know who it is.
His jaw clenches as he lifts his gun and continues to fire.
Sebastian is beside him, blood splattered across his white shirt, shooting down an Irishman trying to flank them.
The pews are overturned. Bodies litter the floor. Blood pools where there should have been flower petals.
And then… A scream.
I turn just in time to see Massimo’s mother collapse. My heart stops.
Massimo’s roar splits the air, his scream “No!” echoing off the walls. Unleashed fury follows him as he becomes a weapon.
One by one, he takes them down. Not just shooting. Killing. By the time the last shot is fired, the Irish are gone.
But the damage is already done. The church is the scene of a massacre. The scent of gunpowder lingers. Smoke curls toward the rafters. I look down at myself, at the lace of my wedding dress once pristine, now stained with blood forever.
And then, I see Massimo kneeling. His mother lies in his arms, his hands pressed to the wound on her stomach, desperate to stop the bleeding.
And all I can do is stand frozen to where I am.
The killer vanishes. What’s left is a son, broken and desperate.
“Stay with me, Mom.” Tears sting my eyes as I step closer, my own hands trembling, reaching for him.For the man I love. For the man who's losing the last piece of innocence he has left.
Chapter 12
Massimo
The house is silent. Hollow. Suffocating.
Pacing back and forth in my office, my hands are in fists, the raw sting of my knuckles reminding me of the fight I had earlier. But no amount of blood on my hands can bring her back.
I saw it coming, and I did nothing, and now she’s dead.
The words loop in my head, carving into my skull, into my fucking soul.
My mother is dead. And I’m the reason.
I slam my fist against the edge of my desk, the wood creaking under the impact, but the pain does nothing to quiet the scream trapped inside me. The whiskey bottle on my desk is half-empty, but I don’t remember drinking it. I needed something to numb the pain of today. How the fuck was the happiest day of my life, turned into the worst?
I don’t remember much of anything after the bloodshed. After her body fell. After the world fucking stopped turning.
I never should’ve married Maria. Loving her is exactly why my family paid the price.
