Page 41 of Unrelenting
While Matteo shoves Giulia out of the way, Piotr dives for Olivia and pushes her aside. I storm toward the front of the church, shooting several of the assholes who’ve dared to attack during a wedding.
Bullets whizz past me in both directions, taking chunks out of the wooden pews and the stone pillars that hold up the ornate ceiling.
Restitution will have to be made for the damage and the insult. Most of it will be in blood.
The gunfight doesn’t last long. Our assailants bring down a few of our men and the guards Piotr brought with him.
Ultimately, the enemy is outclassed and outnumbered. In the dying moments of the shootout, as I scan the room to check the women are okay, I take a hit to the head.
Staggering forward, I fall to my knees on the stone floor. Fuck! Did someone shoot me? I raise a hand to my head, feeling around for a hole.
“Lorenzo!” Damiano drops down next to me. He pushes my hand out of the way to examine the wound. He sags in relief. “It’s just a graze.”
It may bejust a graze,but it hurts like hell. It burns and stings at the same time, and I want to throw up. As I struggle to my feet, Damiano offers me a hand. I let him help me up, then stumble back against the nearest wall.
Taking a moment to catch my breath, I survey the scene before me. Everything happened so fast I can barely process it. One moment we were witnessing a marriage and the next there was chaos.
Several men lie dead, some ours but most the enemy. Piotr and two of his Bratva soldiers stand guard over three men who’re on their knees. I don’t recognize any of them, but one is just a kid, no more than eighteen, perhaps.
“You need to see a doctor?” I motion toward Damiano’s arm, which is hanging loosely at his side. He’s grimacing in pain.
“Nah, I’m good. You?” He gestures toward my head, which is bleeding profusely.
“No, I’ll live.”
The sensible thing would be to go get the wound patched up and rest for a while, but that’s not going to happen.
Though my head is throbbing and blood streams down my face, there are more important things to deal with right now.
These fuckers need to explain who they are and why they dared launch an assault at a wedding. They disturbed us during a private family moment, and I can’t wait to make them pay.
Two hourslater
Restingmy head back against the chair, I close my eyes and try to tune out Olivia and Piotr’s bickering. I arrived at Gabriele’s villa ten minutes ago and discovered they’d only just got here, despite leaving the church immediately after the shooting.
It seems my little cousin used her feminine charms to persuade Piotr to send Giulia back to New York on his private jet.
Apparently she felt her brother’s new bride needed some space from him. I’d hate to be in her shoes when Matteo finds out what she’s done.
I haven’t the patience for all this drama right now. My head is pounding, and I’m exhausted.
Damiano sent me away while and Matteo continued to torture two of the assholes we captured for information. He said it was because he wanted me to check on the women, but really he’s concerned about my injury.
There’s little chance of my getting the rest I need with my cousin and her prospective husband arguing like they’re already an old married couple.
Today has been shit. Even before the shooting, the wedding was a disaster.
Interrogating the men who attacked us was less gratifying than it would usually be. The youngest of them spilled his secrets way too easily. He was just a kid seeking revenge because the girl he loved was killed.
He thought Matteo was in a relationship with Sofia Montalbano simply because he was standing next to her when she was shot dead.
The idiot went to the Rossi family, not realizing they were the ones who had the girl murdered, and asked them for help in eliminating Matteo.
They were happy to oblige since our family has been trying to wipe out the Rossis in revenge for Sofia’s murder. It’s a fucked-up cycle of murder and vengeance that this eighteen-year got caught up in.
Though I felt sorry for him, I still put a bullet between his eyes. He earned it after all.
“Where the hell do you get off telling me what to do?” Olivia’s voice cuts into my thoughts.
