Page 84 of Last Hand

She stands quickly.

“Wait, Mama?” Dante panics and sobs escape her chest, she wanders closer and at first, I think she might beg me to spare him, instead her hand touches my arm, and she looks up at me pleadingly. “Please don’t make him suffer long, this is hard enough, I can’t… I…” she drops her head and rushes out the door. It slams shut behind her.

Dante’s face shatters. “Wait!” he screams. “Wait, Mama pleaseyou can’t let him do this!”

I take my time walking over. No need to rush. He knows what’s coming now.

“Leone,” he says, voice breaking. “Come on. Please. You don’t want to do this. I’m your brother!”

“I didn’t,” I admit. “I wanted my brother back. Then I realized you never truly were one to begin with.”

“We are blood,” Dante gasps. “I’m still your brother— that has to mean something!”

“No,” I say. “You’re a traitor who hid behind Papa’s shadow long enough to fool the world. Not anymore.”

I reach into my coat and pull the small pistol from the holster under my arm.

Dante’s eyes widen. He struggles against the chains, twisting. “Leone. Don’t.Please.”

“Our mother has suffered enough, so I will make this quick. I wanted to drag it out. Now I am so done with you, I just want you gone.”

I aim for his heart. So there’s no chance he survives it.

“No one’s coming to save you,” I say. “This is the only legacy you left behind.”

And I pull the trigger.

The sound cracks through the basement. His body jerks once. Then stills.

I stare at him for a long time. Long enough for the silence to feel loud again.

Then I lower the gun and finally, finally, I breathe.

Milo’s waiting near the top of the stairs. He doesn’t ask what happened. He doesn’t have to.

He just looks at me. “Are you okay?”

I nod once. “Yeah. The past is buried. All that’s left is us.”

“And Igor…” I nod slowly, having forgotten about him with everything going on.

“I suppose we better see what she wants to do with him besides remove his arms.” I peer around wondering where my mother and father went and Milo quickly notices.

“They went home.”

“Rocco?” I ask, already dreading the next part of this night.

“In your office.”

I sigh, not wanting to do this next part. I peek at Milo.

“I’ll come with you.”

Relief floods me and I move toward my office.

TWENTY-TWO

Fallon

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