Page 42 of Devil's Embrace
"If tradition means threatening children, perhaps tradition needs to change."Luca’s voice carried across the foyer.
Several of Mateo's men shifted uncomfortably at that.I noticed the doubt in their eyes, the glances they exchanged.Some of them held back, their loyalty wavering, their eyes shifting with doubt.Not all of them committed to the coup, and I could already see who might break first.Luca saw it too, I realized.He was playing for the audience as much as confronting Junior.
"Change?"Mateo, Junior laughed, the sound echoing harshly off the marble."This business isn't built on change.It's built on blood and fear and respect.Things you've forgotten."
He gestured, and one of his men stepped forward with a silver case.Junior flipped it open to reveal an ornate pistol nestled in velvet—the same silver gun his father had carried.Where had he gotten it?Surely Luca had disposed of it.
"This should have been my father's final moment—passing his legacy to me, not dying on this floor at your hands."He lifted the gun, examining it in the light."I'm here to correct that mistake."
"You're here to die.Just like your father."Luca sounded almost bored, his tone flat.
The statement hung in the air between them, a challenge impossible to ignore.Junior's face contorted with rage.He raised the silver gun, pointing it directly at Luca's chest.
"I think not, cousin.Drop your weapon."
For a heart-stopping moment, I thought Luca might actually comply.His expression gave nothing away as he slowly lowered his gun to the floor.I started to protest, but a flicker in his eyes silenced me.He had a plan.I had to trust him.
"Kneel," Junior ordered, drunk on his apparent victory.
"You sound just like him."Luca slowly sank to one knee."Same inflection.Same delusions of adequacy."
Mate, Junior's face flushed with anger.He stepped closer, the silver gun unwavering."Any last words before I send you to join your parents?"
"Just one," Luca replied calmly."Duck."
Confusion crossed Mateo, Junior's face—a split second of hesitation that gave me the opening I needed.My hand closed around a crystal decanter on a side table, and I hurled it with all my strength.It shattered at Junior's feet, showering him with glass and the remaining whiskey.
He staggered back, momentarily blinded and disoriented.Luca moved with the deadly grace of a predator, surging upward from his kneeling position.His fist connected with Junior's jaw with a sickening crack.The silver gun fired wild, the bullet embedding itself in the ceiling.
Chaos erupted as Junior's men reacted, but they were too slow.Luca had already closed the distance, delivering a vicious blow to Junior's solar plexus that doubled him over.I raised my gun, covering Luca as he fought, keeping the other men at bay.
"Stay back!"I shouted, my aim shifting between potential threats.To my surprise, most of them hesitated, unsure whose orders to follow as the power dynamic shifted before their eyes.
Luca and Junior grappled on the blood-stained marble, trading blows with savage intensity.For all his fine clothes and polished veneer, Junior fought dirty—biting, clawing, going for Luca's eyes.But Luca fought with the cold precision of someone trained from childhood in the art of violence.Each strike found a vulnerable point.Each movement had purpose.
I watched, my breath caught in my throat, as Luca gained the advantage.A vicious uppercut sent Junior sprawling backward.The silver gun skittered across the floor, coming to rest against a fallen chair.
Junior scrambled for it, but Luca was faster.His boot came down on Junior's wrist with a sharp crack that echoed through the foyer.The man howled in pain, but the sound cut off abruptly as Luca's fist connected with his throat.
"Yield," Luca demanded, standing over his fallen opponent."Call off your men.Leave and never return."
Junior looked up, blood streaming from his nose and a split lip.He spat a mouthful of crimson onto the floor."Go to hell."
"After you."Luca picked up the silver gun.
I held my breath, waiting for the shot, but instead, Luca looked around the foyer at Junior's men."This is your one chance.Drop your weapons and leave with your lives, or die with him."
To my amazement, they obeyed.Guns clattered to the floor as Junior watched in disbelief.
"Cowards!"he screamed at them."Traitors!My father will—"
"Your father is dead," Luca cut him off."By my hand.Just as you're about to be."
Junior's eyes widened as Luca aimed the silver pistol at his head."Wait," he gasped, raising his unbroken hand."We're family.Blood."
"So were my parents," Luca replied, his voice empty of emotion.
The shot echoed through the foyer, impossibly loud in the sudden silence.Junior's body jerked once, then went still, a small, neat hole in the center of his forehead.The gold embroidery on his suit jacket glittered obscenely in the light streaming through shattered windows.
