First taste of War

First taste of War
Alex POV

Sofia's bullet slammed into my shoulder instead of my chest.

Pain exploded through my body like fire, but I was alive. I dove sideways, tackling Iris to the ground as blood poured down my arm.

"Alex!" Iris screamed.

"Stay down!" I gasped, rolling us behind the broken couch.

More gunshots erupted around us. My father and his men opened fire on Sofia's team. Dad—Robert Kane—dove for cover behind a marble statue that was now full of bullet holes.

"Why is she shooting at you?" Iris asked, pressing her hands against my bleeding shoulder.

"Because I broke the rules," I said through gritted teeth.

"What rules?"

Before I could answer, Sofia's voice cut through the gunfire. "Twenty years ago, your families made a deal, Alessandro! The Torrinos would stay out of FBI business, and Kane would look the other way on certain... activities!"

"What's she talking about?" Iris whispered.

I closed my eyes. The secret I'd hoped she'd never learn was about to come out.

"The deal was simple!" Sofia continued, her men still shooting at us. "If Kane ever had children, they would belong to us! Insurance to keep him in line!"

Iris went pale. "That's not true."

"Tell her, Robert!" Sofia laughed. "Tell your daughter how you promised her to the highest bidder before she was even born!"

Dad's voice boomed from across the room. "I never agreed to that!"

"But you never stopped it either! You just hid her away and hoped we'd forget!"

My father cursed in Italian. "Sofia, this isn't your fight!"

"It became my fight when the Castellanos hired me to collect what's owed!"

A hired killer. That's what Sofia was. And she was here to take Iris.

"We need to move," I told Iris, struggling to stand with my wounded arm. "Now."

But as we started toward the hidden door, more explosions shook the house. The Castellanos weren't just attacking—they were trying to bring the whole mansion down.

"The basement!" my father shouted. "Everyone to the basement!"

We ran through falling pieces of ceiling and broken glass. Marco helped Elena, who was still tied up but walking. Dad covered our backs, shooting at anyone who tried to follow us.

The basement was like a bunker with thick walls and heavy steel doors. My father had built it for exactly this kind of situation.

"We'll be safe here," Marco said, closing the reinforced door behind us.

But I knew better. We weren't safe anywhere.

"How long can we stay down here?" Iris asked.

"Not long," I admitted. "They'll find a way in eventually."

"Then what do we do?"

Before I could answer, Elena spoke up. "There's something you all need to know."

We turned to look at her. Dad had cut the ropes around her hands, but she looked terrible. Bruises covered her face, and her clothes were torn.

"Elena, you don't have to—" Dad started.

"Yes, I do." She looked directly at Iris. "Sofia wasn't lying about the deal. But she didn't tell you everything."

"What else is there?" Iris asked quietly.

"The deal wasn't just about you. It was about your brother too."

The room went dead silent.

"My what?" Iris whispered.

Elena's voice broke. "You have a twin brother, sweetheart. We separated you when you were babies to keep you both safe."

I felt like someone had punched me in the stomach. Iris had a brother she didn't know about?

"Where is he?" Iris asked.

"We don't know," Dad said heavily. "He disappeared three years ago. We think the Castellanos took him."

"And you never told me?" Iris's voice was getting louder, angrier. "I had a brother this whole time, and nobody thought to mention it?"

"We were protecting you—"

"By lying to me! Again!"

Tears ran down her face, but they weren't sad tears. They were angry tears.

"His name is Ian," Elena said softly. "Ian Kane. He looks just like you."

Above us, the sounds of fighting continued. Explosions, gunfire, shouting voices. But down in the basement, we were trapped with secrets that kept getting worse.

"Is that why everyone wants me so badly?" Iris asked. "Because I'm part of some stupid deal my father made before I was born?"

"Partly," my father said. "But there's more."

"More secrets? How many more lies are you people going to tell me?"

I touched her hand gently. "Iris—"

"Don't." She pulled away from me. "You're all the same. You all lie to protect me, but your lies are what's putting me in danger."

She was right, and that hurt worse than the bullet in my shoulder.

Suddenly, the lights went out.

"Emergency power," Marco said. "They cut the main lines."

Red emergency lights flickered on, making everything look like we were covered in blood.

"They're in the house," my father said grimly.

Heavy footsteps echoed above us. Voices shouted orders in languages I couldn't understand. The Castellanos had brought help—lots of help.

"There," someone said, very close to the basement door. "Footprints in the dust. They went down here."

"How many?"

"All of them."

I grabbed my gun with my good arm. Dad and Marco did the same. Even Elena picked up a weapon from the gun rack on the wall.

"Iris," I said quietly. "Remember what I taught you about shooting?"

She nodded, her face pale but determined.

The footsteps stopped right outside our door.

"Alessandro Torrino!" a man's voice called down. "We know you're in there! Send up the girl, and maybe we'll let the rest of you live!"

"Go to hell!" my father shouted back.

"Wrong answer."

The steel door began to glow orange. They were cutting through it with something hot—probably a blowtorch.

"How long will that door hold?" Iris asked.

"Not long enough," I admitted.

The orange glow spread wider. In maybe five minutes, they'd be through.

"Is there another way out?" Dad asked.

"The tunnel," my father said. "But it leads to the old wine cellar next door."

"That's something."

"The Castellanos probably have it covered too."

We were trapped. And in a few minutes, Sofia and her men would pour through that door like water through a broken dam.

I looked at Iris. She was scared but trying to be brave. After everything she'd learned today—about her father, about Elena, about her lost brother—she was still standing strong.

"I'm sorry," I told her.

"For what?"

"For bringing you into this world. You deserved better."

She surprised me by smiling. "Maybe. But I'm here now. And I'm not going down without a fight."

The door was almost cut through. Any second now.

"Everyone ready?" my father asked.

We raised our guns and pointed them at the door.

The last piece of steel fell away with a clang.

Sofia stepped through first, smiling that cold smile. Behind her came at least ten armed men.

"Hello again," she said. "Miss me?"

Before anyone could shoot, she held up a cell phone.

"Before you do something stupid, you might want to see this."

She pressed a button, and a video started playing on the phone's screen.

It showed a young man tied to a chair in a dark room. He had Iris's eyes and Iris's nose. Even beaten and bloody, the family resemblance was obvious.

"Ian," Elena whispered.

"That's right," Sofia said. "Big brother is alive. For now."

Iris stepped forward, staring at the phone. "Let him go."

"Of course. All you have to do is come with me. One twin for the other. Fair trade."

"Don't listen to her," I said quickly. "She'll kill him anyway."

"Maybe. Maybe not. But if little sister doesn't come with me right now, big brother definitely dies."

Sofia held up a radio. "One word from me, and Ian Kane stops breathing forever."

Iris looked around the room at all of us. Her real father, who'd lied to her for twenty years. Her aunt, who'd been spying on her. My father, who'd wanted to use her as a weapon. Me, who'd dragged her into this mess.

"I'm tired of people making choices for me," she said finally.

And then she did something none of us expected.

She grabbed the radio from Sofia's hand and spoke into it herself.

"This is Iris Kane. If you hurt my brother, I'll make sure every criminal family in Chicago knows where to find you."

Sofia looked shocked. "You can't—"

"I just did." Iris threw the radio on the floor and crushed it with her foot.

For a moment, nobody moved. Nobody breathed.

Then Sofia's phone rang.

She answered it, her face getting paler with each word she heard.

"What?" she whispered. "That's impossible."

She hung up and stared at Iris with new fear in her eyes.

"What's impossible?" I asked.

Sofia's voice shook. "Your brother isn't just alive. He's escaped. And he's coming here."

Before anyone could ask what that meant, the ceiling above us exploded.

A figure dropped through the hole, landing in a crouch like some kind of superhero.

It was a young man who looked exactly like Iris.

But he wasn't alone.

And he wasn't coming to rescue anyone.

"Hello, sister," he said, pointing a gun at Iris's heart. "We need to talk."