Page 105 of Mafia Kingdom

I nod, pushing myself to my feet despite the pain shooting up from my ankle. "I got in here, didn't I?"

A ghost of a smile touches his lips. "That you did." He glances around the corner of the crate. "Tony and the others are holding the front, but the O'Reillys have us pinned down. There's a side exit through the loading bays. If we time it right between crates..."

"On three," Marco says, positioning himself to cover our escape. "Stay close to me."

I nod, trying to push down the fear.

The next few minutes blur into a chaotic rush of motion, sound, and fear. Marco moves with precision, creating paths where none seem to exist. I follow as best I can, my injured ankle threatening to buckle with each step.

We're almost to the loading bay doors when a bullet whizzes past my ear, close enough that I feel its heat. Marco pulls me down behind a forklift as return fire peppers our position.

"I think that's Deckie O'Reilly himself," Marco mutters, peering cautiously around our cover. "Looks like he decided to personally oversee our execution."

“Come on out, Marco.” A voice, which I assume is Deckie’s, sails through the air.

Marco glances left and right before looking at me.

“Don’t follow me.” His words are almost a growl that shocks me. I don’t realize what he is going to do before he rises with his hands up.

Noooo.

“Didn’t take you for a coward, Deckie.” Marco’s voice holds a note of laughter in it.

Laughter low and throaty echo’s around the quiet space. No more gunfire.

“Let’s do this man to man. No guns, just me and you?” Marco suggests.

Another laugh.

“Let’s not.” Deckie’s words tighten around my throat, and I peer out. Deckie has his gun raised, pointed at Marco’s chest. I clamp my hands across my mouth to stop the scream that demands release.

The sharp crack of a gunshot echoes through the warehouse. Deckie drops instantly, a bullet neatly placed in his head. In the stunned silence that follows, someone shouts.

“Get down, Marco.”

Marco immediately ducks and races back to me. He lands with a loud thud beside me as more gunfire resumes. He drags me into his chest.

“It’s going to be okay; my brother is here.”

I want to ask if he means Damien? But I don’t. We stay huddled until the gunfire stops.

"Boss!" Tony's voice rings from the warehouse entrance. "It’s over. The area is secure."

Marco doesn't respond immediately; he looks at me, relief evident in his expression before he rises and helps me up, too.

Tony approaches cautiously, visibly surprised to see me standing beside Marco. "She should've stayed hidden," he mutters.

Marco cuts him off sharply. "Yes, she should have.”

I want to defend Tony, but another man walks toward Marco.

Marco embraces him. “James, thank you.”

I watch as the brothers embrace, their silhouettes merging into one against the harsh overhead lights of the warehouse. My breath catches in my throat. The metallic scent of blood hangs in the air, making my stomach turn.

"Come on," James says.

Marco pauses and looks at me. “James, this is Sasha, Sasha, my brother James.”

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