Luca's pov
It was a fucking bloodbath.
My men stood guard as I ambled down the hall, shooting at everything that looked remotely suspicious, my shots aimed to kill.
Three of the soldiers had been shot dead, leaving me with four out of the seven that came along with me.
I walked over several unmoving bodies, recognizing some more of my soldiers among them.
Red, hot fury boiled in my bloodstream. The absolute gall to attack no other place but my family residence and on my little sister's wedding day.
Hot fumes puffed out of my lungs as something black pulsed within me. Alexei Mikhalov was going to regret this day.
The bastard was obviously reacting in response to the show I put out for him last time. He was pissed and probably nursing the loss of his alliance with the Serbs and his multimillion dollar business venture that had shut down indefinitely due to the drama with the press.
"What's the situation on the patio?" I asked, shooting twice at a bratva soldier I sighted in my peripheral vision. The scemo dropped to the floor with a thud.
"We've managed to get the women and children to safety but there are a lot of casualties."
My face tightened. I could imagine just how many funerals the Costra Nostra was going to be holding.
Che cavolo.
"Just how the fuck did the fucking bratva infiltrate my father's mansion for fuck sake."
A bullet flew past me and my men took cover, I ducked pushing away a soldier that tried to shield me.
"Get your ass to the security room and figure out how this mess began." I ordered, pulling off my tie.
He hesitated but nodded immediately at the cold sternness of my gaze then crouched away.
Shooting at my new attacker to throw him off, I darted into an alcove, pressing into the wall. Then I waited.
The bastard who shot me hesitated, making no move and I knew I had to bait him. Fixing my loaded gun in my mouth, I drew out another gun, uncocked and jangled the bullets.
I heard him start to move again so I quietly moved the unreadied gun to my left hand and put the loaded one back on my right, my finger on the trigger.
I timed his steps and when he was a few steps away from the alcove, I jumped out and shot once.
He dropped to the floor, blood pouring out from the hole in his heart.
Footsteps approached from the other end of the hall and I slipped into the room closest to me.
Seconds later, a bratva soldier came in.
He slinked around the room, light on his feet as he scanned the space, his muzzle hoisted up in attack mode. I watched him from my vantage point, crouched down on the floor, twisted anticipation filling me as he drew nearer like an oblivious prey.
His alert stance relaxed and he backed me, the bastard convinced that there was no one here.
A smirk crept across my lips.
He was fucking wrong.
I pushed to my feet and stalked behind him, the sound of my steps akin to that of a ghost and I took my time, enjoying his cluelessness.
The bratva bastard lowered his gun and murmured into his earpiece in Russian.
But I knew what he said because I'd spent a handful of years mastering the language, along with a few others. It was always necessary to know the tongue of the foes.
No Italian fuckers here. He had said.
A cold darkness settled within me. He was about to find out how incorrect he was.
My tone was deathly low. "I beg to differ."
He whirled around immediately, his hands on the trigger but I hadn't spent my teenage years perfecting a quick shot for me to get caught by his bullet.
I shot his grip on the weapon before he could pull the trigger, his hiss of pain a satisfying sound to my ears.
The gun clattered to the marble floor.
I stalked over to him, pushing the firearm aside with one lazy swoop of my foot before crouching down. I pinned him with a cold stare.
He glared up at me, holding on to his now useless hand.
I wanted to stomp on it until I've completely crushed it.
I pressed my gun to his temple. "How did you infiltrate the mansion?"
"Fuck you!" He spat.
The grip of my gun smacked him on the face. "I don't have the time or patience for rudeness. Who were you talking to on the mic?"
His face was glowing red from the force of my hit and blood trickled from a small cut.
"How many of you are here?"
He stayed mute, his jaw ground in challenge.
I sighed but I wasn't surprised. They never broke that easily. I'd only wanted to read the underlying answers in his body language. Most people didn't know, but their actions gave more insight than the words that came out of their mouth.
And this bastard's flickering glances above my head was one tell.
I gave him an icy smile and I shot him in the head.
I slowly rose to my feet, deliberately not looking behind me as I drew out my phone, leaving blood smears as I unlocked it and swiped on the screen.
"Dominic, send a couple of men to the security room. I think our Russian friends have nested there."
I ended the call with a click, slipping the phone back into my pocket.
This might just be the greatest ambush I had been dished so far in my reign as don. The smartest and the most ruthless.
And on a merry day for that matter.
My fists balled at my side. My father and sister could have gotten badly hurt. Cara…
My throat closed up and I tried to swallow down the angry fear clogging it up.
I couldn't imagine what I'd have done if she so much as got grazed by a tiny shard of glass. Just the thought of anything happening to her sent icy splinters shooting through my veins. And for the hundred times since the attack began, I prayed to God that she was completely safe.
I never asked Him for anything since the day I was christened. Never asked for strength or power as I relied on mine alone. I never even asked for penance, I had long strayed from the threshold of salvation.
This was my first request and even though I was literally the last person to make any requests from Him, my sincerity deserved to be taken into consideration.
I glared down at the body before me. Just like I always have done, I will deal with my foes myself.
"Vai al diavolo," I declared before I stepped over it and walked out the door.
***
It was the fucking rat again.
Sitting in my father's study, I listened as Dominic filled me in on his findings so far, a raging storm simmering beneath my skin.
The same bastard that had outed us to that idiot Jenkins had enabled the attack today. Had brought the enemy into my home, around my family.
A bought out mafioso on my own turf.
The storm simmered even harder.
"Have the police been taken care of?" I asked because the last thing I needed was pigs snooping about and thwarting the hot, cruel revenge I was about to serve Alexei Mikhalov.
Fuck all of that bullshit of it being best served cold.
The iron needed to be struck when it's hot.
"Yes, I've contacted the commissioner, his underlings have been ordered to ignore reports of the gunshots and desist from investigating."
Good.
"Also, the old don is asking to see you."
I rose to my feet. "I'll speak with him." Something dark and vengeful washed over me as I threw Dominic a look. "But first, take me to the captured intruders."
Three of them had been rounded up in the security room. The remaining two have been caught hiding around. My soldiers still patrolled the expanse of the property for any bastard with the prospect of escaping.
Hopefully they'd get exterminated by my father's high-end traps.
I pushed into the room they were kept prisoner, watching as their eyes lit up in fear.
They probably didn't think I'd come in person.
Fools.
What did they expect after attacking my own home?
"I'd keep it simple, you tell me everything you know and we can all save time and energy." My gaze coasted pointedly to one of the cushioned chairs in the room and one of my soldiers rushed to bring it to me.
I sat down, propping my arms on my thighs as I leaned in. "Are we clear?"
The look all five of them gave me was a discordant mix of defiance, fear and uncertainty.
A tight smile curled up my lips. "Have it your way then."