Page 60 of Bittersweet Endings
JP’s smile didn’t waver. “Guess we’ll see.”
And just like that, all hell broke loose.
Gunfire ripped through the street like thunder cracking the sky. Men dove for cover as bullets tore through bodies, shattering glass, punching holes into the pavement. I ducked behind a parked car as one of our men went down screaming. His blood spraying across the asphalt.
Matteo was already firing, his face twisted with fury, while Lorenzo moved with ruthless precision, cutting through the bastards in front of him like they were nothing but cattle. I raised my gun, aimed, and put a bullet through the skull of the first motherfucker at the end of my barrel.
He dropped instantly. Another rushed me. I turned, pressed the muzzle against his gut, and pulled the trigger. He choked on his own blood as he crumbled to the ground.
The fight was chaos. Bodies hitting the pavement. The sharp crack of gunfire. Men cursing, screaming, dying. But JP… he was slipping away. I saw the panic on his face. He thought he was going to storm in here and take us all down. The bastard was finally realizing he shouldn’t underestimate me.
Through the haze of bullets and blood, I caught a glimpse of him, retreating like the coward he was. He moved fast, his men covering him as he disappeared into the night.
I roared, putting a bullet between the eyes of the bastard who tried to stop me from following, and surged forward. But a strong grip yanked me back.
“Carmine!” Matteo’s voice cut through the madness. “He’s gone.”
I wrenched free, my breath coming out in ragged gasps. JP had escaped. Again. It didn’t matter how many bodies we put in the ground tonight. He was still breathing. Still out there. And that meant this war wasn’t over.
***
Back at the warehouse, the aftermath settled around us like a bad hangover. Blood dripped from my hands—some mine, some not. Our men moved around, patching up the wounded and dragging away the dead. The place reeked of sweat, smoke, and death. We had lost good men. But my brothers were still standing. That had to be enough.
Matteo sat next to me, rolling his shoulders, still buzzing from the fight. He exhaled sharply and nudged me with his knee. “He threatened Octavia.”
I didn’t flinch at the mention of her name. “Lucky better protect his sister, then.”For once,I wanted to add but didn’t.
Matteo sighed. “You’re afraid going after Octavia makes you look soft.” He shook his head. “But you know what’s actually weak? A man too scared to take what he wants.”
I flicked my lighter open, the small flame illuminating the blood on my fingers before I brought the cigarette to my lips. I inhaled deep, letting the smoke settle in my lungs.
“They haven’t been able to protect her yet. Why would it suddenly start now?”
Matteo was right. JP wasn’t done. This war wasn’t over. And Octavia… she was in more danger than ever. The Agostinos couldn’t protect her, and AJ couldn’t handle it alone anymore.
I pulled out my phone, staring at the name on the screen before pressing call. Lucky picked up on the first ring. I took another slow drag of my cigarette before exhaling.
“What’s up, baby devil?” I asked. Octavia needed to be protected. And I’d tear apart the entire fucking world before I let JP get his hands on her. Which meant it was time I called a fuckin’ truce.
“The fuck you want, Ragetti?”
I smirked, exhaling a slow stream of smoke. “Nice to hear your voice too, asshole.”
Lucky let out a sharp laugh, but there was no humor in it. “Unless you’re calling to tell me goodbye because you’re taking a leap off the Golden Gate, I’m not interested.”
“Tempting, but nah.” I grinned. “You’d miss me.”
“Fuck off.” He waited. “Better make it quick. Some of us actually know how to keep our shit together without setting the whole goddamn city on fire.”
There it was. The same old song and dance. “That’s real fucking cute coming from you, considering I remember the last time you got your hands dirty—oh wait, you let other people do that for you, don’t you?”
Lucky scoffed. “At least when I clean up a mess, it stays clean. You, on the other hand? You’re like a fucking tornado, tearing through everything and expecting someone else to sweep up the pieces.”
I barked out a laugh. “And that someone’s usually you, huh?”
“I swear to god, Carmine, if you?—”
“Relax,” I cut him off, still grinning. “I’m not calling to bustyour balls. Well, notjustto bust your balls. I actually need something.”
