Chapter 38 Ren
Ren
I walk out of the cellar and the heavy steel door shuts behind me with a final, echoing clang. The sound cuts off Gianni’s whimpering. I pull off my black leather gloves and hand them to Matteo. My hands are steady. My heart rate has not increased. I feel a cold sense of satisfaction. The air in the hallway is stale and smells of old stone, but it feels cleaner than the cellar.
"What now, Boss?" Matteo asks as he tucks the gloves into his pocket.
"Now we wait," I say. I start walking toward the exit of the estate. "The message is already being sent. By tomorrow morning, every captain in this city will know that the Shadow has returned. They will remember what happens to anyone who forgets their place."
I step out into the night air and pull off the mask. I take a deep breath of the cold Verona wind. It tastes like copper and old rain. I am ready to leave this rot behind. I am ready to get back to the mountains where the air is clear and Amelia is waiting.
"Get the car ready," I say. I look at my watch. "I want to be back at the villa before Amelia wakes up. I have spent enough time with garbage for one night."
Matteo nods and starts to step ahead of me toward the SUV.
We are halfway across the dark courtyard when the silence of the night is shattered.
A sharp crack echoes through the air.
It is the unmistakable sound of a high-caliber sniper rifle.
Matteo jerks violently. He is spun around by the force of the impact and collapses to the stone floor. He lets out a ragged groan of pain that makes my blood run cold.
"Sniper!" I roar.
I dive toward him as a second shot pings off the pavement where I was standing a second ago. Sparks fly from the stone. My Soldati move instantly. They form a tight defensive circle around us, their suppressed rifles clicking as they return fire into the darkness. They are a wall of black silk and steel.
I grab Matteo by the collar of his jacket and drag him behind the heavy wheel of a parked sedan.
He is gasping for air.
His hands are clawing at the ground.
I look down and see the dark stain spreading rapidly across his right thigh. The bullet tore through the muscle. The blood is thick and a deep, terrifying red.
"Stay with me, Matteo," I hiss.
I scan the area, my eyes searching the horizon for the flash. I see a glint of glass on the rooftop of the warehouse directly opposite the estate. The shooter is perched high. He has the angle. He has the high ground.
I reach down and rip a wide strip of fabric from the hem of my suit jacket. I don't care about the price of the wool. I wrap it tightly around Matteo's thigh, just above the wound. I pull it taut, using all my strength to create a makeshift tourniquet.
Matteo cries out, his teeth baring in a silent scream.
The color is draining from his face.
He is turning a sickly shade of grey under the flickering streetlights.
"You're losing too much blood, brother," I say. My voice is tight. "We need to get you to the hospital. Now."
I keep my hand pressed firmly over the wound. The warm blood seeps through the fabric and coats my palms.
"It's fine," Matteo wheezes. He tries to push my hand away, but he's too weak. "I'm fine. That shot... it was meant for your head, Ren. If I hadn't turned around to look at the car, you'd be the one on the floor."
"Shut up," I snap. "Don't talk like you're dying. You aren't allowed to die on my watch."
"You need to leave," he persists. His voice is getting thinner. "The Syndicate... they aren't done. Go back to the villa. Go back to Amelia. I can take care of myself. Just leave a couple of the boys."
"Fuck that!" I spit the words out. I look him dead in the eye. "I am not leaving you here to bleed to death in the dirt. We go together or we don't go at all."
The gunfire from my men is constant now. They are suppressing the rooftop, keeping the sniper's head down.
I take out my own handgun and cock it with a sharp, metallic click.
I feel the weight of it in my hand and it gives me a sense of relief.
"We are moving," I tell the Soldati. "Cover the exit!"
I reach under Matteo's arms and haul him upward. He groans, his good leg shaking as he tries to find his balance. I drape his heavy arm over my shoulder and take most of his weight. He is a large man, but the adrenaline makes him feel light. I can feel the heat of his blood soaking into my shirt.
"Hold on to me," I command. "Don't you dare pass out."
"I'm trying," he mutters. His head lolls for a second before he snaps it back up.
We move in a jagged line toward the SUV. My men move with us, their bodies acting as human shields. Every step feels like a mile. I keep my eyes on that rooftop, waiting for the sniper to try his luck again.
Another shot rings out and shatters the rear window of the car next to us.
Glass rain falls over my shoulders.
"Almost there," I growl.
We reach the door of the SUV. Marco throws it open from the inside. I practically heave Matteo into the back seat. He falls onto the leather with a heavy thud.
I climb in after him, never letting go of the pressure on his leg.
"Drive!" I yell at Marco. "Get us to the hospital. If anyone follows us, kill them."
The SUV screams as Marco floors it. The tires smoke as we peel out of the courtyard and onto the main road.
I look back through the shattered window.
The estate is shrinking in the distance.
Gianni is still in the basement.
The sniper is still on the roof.
But Matteo is in the car with me.
I look down at him. He is breathing in shallow, jagged bursts. His eyes are closed.
I reach up and slap his cheek, not hard, but enough to wake him.
"Stay awake, Matteo," I say. "That's an order."
He blinks his eyes open and offers a weak, bloody smirk.
"You're very bossy for a ghost, Ren."
"Just save your breath," I mutter.
I look at my hands. They are stained red up to the wrists.
I think about the villa.
I think about Amelia.
She wanted a gun to feel safe, and now I understand why.
"We're going to be fine," I say, more to myself than to him. "Just hold on."
The SUV tears through the industrial district with the engine screaming in the night. I am still hunched over Matteo in the back seat. My hands are soaked in his blood and the fabric of my suit is ruined. I keep my weight pressed against his thigh to slow the bleeding. Matteo is slipping. His eyes are rolling back and his breathing is becoming a wet rattle.
"Stay awake!" I growl. I lean close to his face so he can see the fire in my eyes. "Do not close your eyes, Matteo. That is an order from your Boss."
"Trying," he whispers. His voice is barely audible over the roar of the wind.
The sniper was not alone. I should have known that. A shadow moves in my peripheral vision and then the rear window shatters. A dark sedan pulls up alongside us. It is a reinforced vehicle and it is moving fast. The muzzle flashes from their windows light up the interior of our car like a strobe light.
The driver of the sedan swerves and rams into our rear bumper. The impact is violent. The SUV fishtails for a second before Marco regains control. Matteo let's out a long, pained groan as his body is thrown against the door. The sound of his agony makes my vision turn red. These people are not just trying to kill me anymore. They are disrespecting my territory and hurting my people.
"Marco, give me a steady line!" I yell.
I release one hand from Matteo's leg and reach for the door handle. I kick the door open just enough to create a gap. The wind howls into the car and threatens to pull me out. I lean out into the rushing air with my handgun raised. I don't care about the risk. I only care about the target.
I fire a series of shots at the driver's side of the chasing car. The bullets sparks off their armored glass. They are using high-grade protection. Marco shifts gears and increases the speed to create some distance between us. The gap widens. I take a deep breath and steady my aim. I stop aiming for the glass. I aim for the rubber, instead.
I fire three times in rapid succession. The first two miss the mark. The third bullet finds the front left tire of the sedan. The tire explodes in a cloud of black smoke and shredded rubber. The sedan screeches as the metal rim hits the asphalt. It sparks like a firework. The car goes off course and veers wildly toward the side of the road. It crashes into the thick bushes and comes to a smoking halt.
I watch as the driver steps out of the wreckage. He is wearing a black mask and he looks furious. He watches us drive away into the darkness. I pull myself back into the car and slam the door shut.
"We're clear," I say. I move back to Matteo. "We're almost at the hospital, Matt. Just hold on for five more minutes."
I allow myself a single second to breathe. I think we have actually made it. I think about the mountain villa. I think about how much I want to be sitting on that terrace with a glass of wine and Amelia. But the universe is not that kind tonight.
A set of headlights suddenly blazes to life in an alleyway ahead of us. A heavy black truck lunges out and cuts directly in front of our path. Marco has no time to react. He slams on the brakes but the momentum is too much.
Our SUV smashes into the side of the truck with a bone-jarring thud. The airbags do not deploy. My head snaps forward and hits the back of the front seat. The world turns into a blur of grey and white. For a moment, there is only the sound of hissing steam and the ringing in my ears.
I shake my head to clear the fog. I feel something warm and sticky running down the side of my face. I reach up and touch my temple. My hand comes away red. I have a concussion and the side of my head is bleeding.
I look over at Matteo. He is unconscious. Marco is slumped over the steering wheel.
I reach for my gun on the floor of the car. My fingers are clumsy and my vision is doubled. I manage to grab it just as the door of the truck opens. A man steps out into the middle of the road. He is tall and well-built. He is wearing a tactical jacket and he carries himself with an air of absolute authority.
The light from the streetlamp hits his face. It is a face I recognise. It is the face that haunts Amelia's memories and took her rightful place in the military.
It is Valentino Russo, her brother.
He stands there with his hands on his hips. He looks at the wreckage of my car with a cold and clinical expression. He looks like a man who has finally trapped the beast he has been hunting for years.
"Son of a bitch," I growl.
The words come out as a raspy whisper. I try to pull myself toward the door but the pain in my head makes the world spin. I am trapped in a cage of twisted metal and my best friend is dying next to me. Valentino starts walking toward the SUV. He doesn't look like a soldier right now. He looks like an executioner.
I realize then that the bounty wasn't just a rumor. The Syndicate isn't the only one who wants me dead. Her own blood is standing in the street, ready to finish what the sniper started.
"Marco," I cough out. "Wake up."
Marco doesn't move.
I look back at Valentino. He is ten feet away now. He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a weapon. He moves with a slow and deliberate pace. He wants me to see him coming. He wants me to know exactly who ended the Moretti line.
I grit my teeth against the pain and raise my gun toward the window. My hand is shaking but my heart is cold.
I am the Shadow.
I will not die in the back of a car in a dirty Verona street.
I sit in the wreckage of the SUV and try to keep my vision from blurring. The side of my head is pulsing with a rhythmic heat that tells me the gash is deep. I can feel the blood matting my hair and dripping onto my collar. Beside me, Matteo is a heavy and silent weight. I still have my hand clamped over the wound in his thigh, but I am losing my grip. The air in the car is thick with the smell of burnt electrical wires and the sharp tang of copper.
Valentino Russo stands in the center of the road like he owns the night. He looks down at me through the shattered glass of the passenger window. He raises his handgun and points it directly at my forehead. His hand is perfectly steady.
"I always knew there was something suspicious about you, Luca D'Angelo," Valentino says.
His voice is calm and clinical. I look up at him and shoot daggers at him with my eyes. I want to tell him that his sister is worth ten of him. I want to tell him that I am going to be the last thing he ever sees. But the concussion makes the words stick in my throat.
Valentino ignores my glare and continues speaking as if we are at a formal dinner. "I found it weird that one of Italy's richest and most eligible bachelors took an interest in my dear sister. No man of your calibre would spare a mere captain that looks like her a second glance. No offence to her, of course. She has her charms, I suppose."
I tighten my jaw until my teeth ache. The insult to Amelia hits harder than the crash did.
"So, I decided to look into you," Valentino continues. He cocks his head to the side. "Quietly, of course. And my, oh my, who would have thought that my sister was fucking the Ren Moretti."
He says my real name like it is a disease. He lets the words hang in the air between us. I can hear the hissing of the radiator and the distant sound of a siren, but in this circle of light, it is just us.
"I wonder," he muses. "Does she know? I hope you used protection. I doubt she will want to carry the child of a Mafia Lord. That would be quite the scandal for the Russo family legacy."
"Shut. The. Fuck. Up," I snap.
The words come out as a growl. I try to shift my weight so I can reach the gun on the floorboard, but the movement sends a wave of nausea through my stomach. My head spins and I have to blink to keep from passing out.
"You are not in any position to give me orders, Lorenzo Moretti," Valentino says. He steps closer to the door. "I have a gun pointed at your face and I will pull the trigger if you push me. I am not a man who enjoys repeating himself."
"How could you speak so low of your sister?" I ask. I force myself to stay conscious. I need to keep him talking. Every second he spends bragging is a second that my men are getting closer to this location. "Do you really think I took an interest in her because of her position in the military? Do you think I am that desperate for intelligence?"
"That is the only reason I can think of, yes," Valentino says. He looks bored now. "She is not that gorgeous compared to the ladies you are usually seen frolicking with in the tabloids. She is a tomboy. Her skin is as hard as granite and her personality is even worse. She is a soldier. She was bred for war, not for the bed of a man like you."
The fury inside me is cold and sharp. I think about the way Amelia looked on the balcony this morning. I think about the way she holds her coffee and the way she refuses to back down from a fight. Valentino sees a weapon when he looks at her. I see the only thing that matters.
"You don't know her at all," I say. My voice is gaining strength. "She is worth more than the uniform you are wearing. She is more of a leader than you will ever be."
Valentino sighs. He looks at his watch as if he has a plane to catch. "If you are trying to buy time by defending her honor, you are wasting your breath. If you are hoping for backup, you will be sorely disappointed. My men have blocked the intersections for three blocks in every direction. No one is coming to save you, Shadow."
"What exactly do you want?" I snap. I look at him through the blood dripping into my eye. "Is this even by the books, Valentino? Does the military know you are out here playing hitman?"
"I have the right to do whatever I like, however I please, as long as I bring results," Valentino says. He shrugs his shoulders. "My father does not care about the process. He only cares about the result. He wants his daughter back in the fold or he wants her gone. He does not want her as the mistress of a criminal."
He looks at me for a long moment. I see the hesitation in his eyes. He is a soldier and he knows that killing me here would create a vacuum that would burn the city down. He is not ready for that kind of war. Not yet.
"Rest assured, I won't be sending your head to him today," Valentino says.
He uncocks the gun with a smooth flick of his thumb and slips it back into the holster under his arm. He looks at the wreckage one last time. He looks at Matteo, who is still unconscious and bleeding. There is no pity in his gaze. There is only a calculated indifference.
"I guess I will see you later, Shadow," he says.
He turns on his heel and walks back to his truck. He doesn't look back. He gets into the driver's seat and pulls away. The tires screech against the pavement as he disappears into the darkness.
I slump back against the seat. My hand is still on Matteo's leg. I can still feel his pulse, thank God. I need to move. I need to get him help. I look out the window at the empty street. The silence is deafening.
I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone. The screen is cracked but it still glows. I dial the emergency code for the hospital.
"I need a team at my coordinates," I say. "Now."
I drop the phone and close my eyes for a second. The world is spinning. I can feel the darkness pulling at me. I think I'm just going to close my eyes for a bit.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Apologies for the delay in updating the book. I resumed a new session in school and I have been very busy. I'll try to be as consistent as possible, though. Thank you all for your supports, thus far.