Page 106 of Giovanna

Nodding I break into a soft jog and my brothers follow close behind. Even though we are doing our best to be stealthy, our footsteps and breathing sound like a herd of elephants to my acutely on-edge senses.

From the general area of the scream a minute or so earlier, a light suddenly illuminates an area in the centre of a row.

“Gotcha,” Elio grins briefly, but our small triumph is short-lived when three men come hurtling out of the row we have just passed, one of them barrelling into Massi.

The other two have guns drawn, but before they can get off a shot Matty spins and puts a bullet between the eyes of one before screaming at the other to drop his weapon.

The men are in all black with ski masks over their faces. Faceless goons doing the bidding of a useless would-be usurper.

“Where is Francesca?” I ask him urgently and with more than a little menace in my tone.

A couple of metres away Massi is still wrestling with his attacker. He pins him to the ground and rains punch after punch down on his head and chest.

“Finish him,” Matty orders our youngest brother flippantly and he obeys immediately, fixing his hands around the man’s neck and snapping it efficiently.

“Answer me!” I point my gun at the last remaining assailant’s head.

After a short pause, the man seems to realise his time is up and he nods toward the spotlight that came on not long ago.

“Who has her?”

“Stefan Rossi,” he mutters and a split second later Matty puts a bullet through his skull as well.

Without so much as a backward glance, I turn and sprint toward the light. It takes me less than a minute to reach the right row and I practically skid on the rough slightly dusty floor as I round the corner.

Grey roller doors flank the concrete walkway on either side and as we continue to run toward the spotlight ahead, we hear the rattling of one of the units being closed in a rush.

A tall blonde figure in a leather jacket takes off running and Elio sprints past me calling out, “On him” as he chases after him. It was Billy, I’m sure of it.

All is quiet as we finally come to a stop under the bright light except for the slight rattling of the roller door as it recovers from being slammed shut.

A chunky padlock secures the door to the ground and I crouch to examine it. Billy managed to ram the lock back on before he left. Dammit.

“Gonna have to shoot it off,” Matteo suggests and at the sound of his voice, a smothered scream comes from inside the unit.

“She’s in there!” Massimo shouts. “We’ve got you, Ches! Hold tight!”

I raise my eyebrow at Matteo and we all step back as he points his gun at the lock. It is blown apart, pieces ricocheting around our feet. He bends and pulls the last piece off the door and hauls the unit open.

It is an almost-empty space, floors concrete and walls of unpainted GIB board. An old motorbike is propped up against one wall with various parts and boxes nearby. But in the centre of the four metre by four metre space is Francesca tied to a chair.

A large bony hand is clasped over her mouth and Stefan stands behind her, a gun in his other hand pointed at her temple.

Francesca’s pupils are blown wide and she is in full panic, straining against the ropes that restrain her.

“Woah woah woah, Stefan. What’s all this about man?” I try to sound casual and like I want to de-escalate the situation.

The man looks wild. He is panicked too. It is clear that nothing has gone to plan for him and two years of destabilising ourFamigliais sliding down the drain. He knows he has lost, but it is in this last moment of desperation that he is the most dangerous. The most likely to be reckless and harm his little sister.

“Handover theFamigliato me and Francesca can live,” he snarls.

“Not really in a strong negotiating position, mate. You think you’ll get support from more than a few of your pals after they hear what you’ve been up to?” I tilt my head at him. Pretending nonchalance is taking a lot of energy.

“See Francesca,” he leans down to her ear. “They don’t give a fuck about you. They’d sacrifice you to hold on to power.”

Her eyes are already full of tears and I can’t tell if she is buying his shit or not. I fuckin’ hope not.

“As opposed to you, her brother, who currently has a gun to her head?” I snap.

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