Page 93 of Corrupted Heir (Mafia Kings: Corrupted 1)

I sighed. “You’re just in time,amico,Grazie. Will you clean up the rest of this for me? I’ve got to get to my wife.”

I was already climbing the stairs two at a time.

“Go get her, my friend,” Brute called out behind me, and I could hear the Old Dogs’ footsteps spreading out.

I slipped on the stair, three steps from the top. So much blood dripped down my leg, it had soaked the bottom of my shoe.Damn it.I yanked off my shirt and tied it like a tourniquet around my leg. There was nothing to conceal the bulletproof vest I wore, but Tony was more of a headshot kind of man anyway.

As I climbed the last three stairs, three more of Tony’s men crawled out of the woodwork. They were easy pickings, arrogant in their abilities to protect their master.

The last obstacle was finally out of my way. Every vein in my body felt like it was going to explode. I had to be in time. She had to be alive.

My heart clenched in my chest. She couldn’t be dead. I couldn’t have her blood on my hands. Not Fallon’s.Dio, per favore,I pleaded silently.

And then I heard a gunshot. It came from the bedroom.

My bedroom.

Our bedroom.

Time froze.

Every step was like trudging through quick sand. I was sinking. I was falling.

Outside the bedroom door, all the pain hit me at once, and I had to grab onto the frame to keep my balance. I nearly buckled over.

And then I saw Fallon.

Not lying on the floor; she was standing with her arms out in front of her, pistol in hand. She was shaking like a leaf, but it was Tony on the floor, on his knees in front of her, clutching his stomach.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Dominic

Holy shit.She’d shot him. She’d fucking shot him. I wanted towhooplike a teenager. I wanted to throw her up on my shoulders and parade her around like she’d just scored the winning touchdown.

That’s my limone,my heart cried proudly.

And then she looked at me. Her eyes were an ocean of terror, leaking a constant steam of tears. Her jaw was clamped shut, but it trembled violently.

“Dominic, help me,” she cried as the gun in her hands shook so hard it bounced precariously in her grasp.

She was breathing so fast I could see her chest heaving from across the room.

“Dominic, help me. I shot him. I killed him,” Fallon said between breaths.

“I’m not dead yet,” Tony croaked.

“Shut the fuck up, Tony,” I barked, limping forward and kicking his fallen gun out of his reach. “You shut your fucking mouth.”

Tony cried out in pain but then let out a bitter laugh. A bitter laugh filled with defeat. He knew he was done.

Fallon dropped the pistol, and thank fuck it didn’t misfire.

“Oh my god,” Fallon cried. “I can’t breathe. I can’t. I shot him.”

She panted. She wasn’t getting enough oxygen.

I limped the few steps left between us, ignoring the piece of shit on the floor. “Fallon, you’re having a panic attack. I need you to try to take in slow, deep breaths.”

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