Page 128 of Unholy Union
And I’m taking her home.
My gaze slides to Sabrina for a fleeting second. She’s still shaking, tears glistening down her cheeks, but even through the panic in her face, she stares at me with trust in her eyes. She knows I’m here for her and I’ll do anything to save her.
I’ve been in denial about it. But I’ve accepted the truth about how I feel about her.
I’m in love with her.
Corsini guessed right. If I’d shown up even five minutes later and found her dead—if I’d walked in to the sound of a gunshot and seen her body on the floor—I probably would’ve snapped.I’d have lost my fucking mind and slaughtered every last person in this warehouse, burning the place to ash.
But that’s not what happened.
I’m here and she’s alive and I’m about to be the one to end this.
“Drop the gun, Cato,” Don Corsini warns, breaking the charged silence. His grin tightens with menace. “Or I swear to god, I’ll have Mario shoot your father right now.”
The corner of my mouth quirks in cruel fashion. “Is that supposed to be a threat?”
A long beat passes where we’re locked into another stalemate, nobody moving or even blinking.
Then Mario shifts his stance, eyes flicking again to Corsini for confirmation.
The bastard pulls the trigger. A deafening crack rings out in the large open space. I don’t hesitate, squeezing the trigger in immediate retaliation.
Sabrina screams from where she’s bound to the chair.
The chaos fractures reality for a heartbeat. Corsini’s collapsed as he’s struck. Papà meets the same fate, crumpling to the ground with blood spreading from his abdomen. But he’s the least of my worries.
I’ve got milliseconds—less than that—before Mario adjusts his aim to finish what they started.
Which would be turning his M9 on Sabrina next.
So I lunge at him.
My shoulder slams into his, knocking him flat to the concrete with a grunt. The gun skitters from his hand, clattering across the floor. He tries to twist away, but I’m already on top of him, cracking my elbow into his face as hard as I can before aiming my own weapon. I won’t let him touch her ever again.
I shoot Mario in the face, the bang making my ears ring.
The bullet tears through his flesh, his body going slack under mine. Blood hits me, splattering onto my face, the front of my shirt, even getting in my mouth since my teeth are gritted when I pull the trigger. It’s wet and warm and smells like raw meat.
I grunt, jerking back on instinct, and wipe the back of my sleeve across my mouth.
The sight of him with his face blown off doesn’t bother me.
But the rusted taste of his fucking blood on my tongue does.
I’m still wiping the revolting shit from my face when I hear a heavy grunt and boots against concrete. My head snaps up.
Don Corsini is up on his feet, limping toward Sabrina like a man possessed. The gun in his hand is trembling, but it’s real, and he’s pointing it at her head.
My pulse hits a new high as adrenaline kicks in.
He’s soaked in sweat, looking less like a man and more like an animal about to collapse. His eyes are wild and his mouth twitches. I shot him in the chest, but he’s pushing through to seek revenge to the very end.
“You left me no choice,” he rasps, breath hitching. “You hear me? This is all I’ve got left! You took everything else, so now I have to do this. Ihave to.This is the only way I win. This is the only way you lose.”
I rise slowly, my gun still in hand. “Put it down, Rinaldo.”
He barks a laugh. “You think I won’t? You think I give a fuck anymore?”
