When She Falls (The Fallen, #3)(104)

Orrin appears at my side. Idiot. He should have stayed in the van. No good will come out of him associating with me.

Nunzio squints. “That you, Petraki?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Want to explain what the fuck this is?”

He shrugs. “Why settle for ten percent when we can get all of it?”

“That’s not how this works, and you know it,” Orrin growls. “Does your capo even know you’re here? Should I give him a call to inform him? This was clearly negotiated and agreed on last month.”

“Last month?” Nunzio snickers. “Fuck, Petraki. That may as well have been last century with how much has happened since. Now, here’s what you’re going to do. Your buddies are going to get out of the van and hand us the keys. You’re going to wait until we’re far away from here before you start walking your ass back to Manhattan. And tomorrow, you’re going to give me a call and tell me what a nice time you had tonight. Got it?”

I scan the three guys standing behind him. “You’re bluffing.”

Nunzio arches a brow. “How’s that?”

“You don’t have clearance to do this. You’re just hoping to pull it off and ask for forgiveness instead of permission.”

It’s only because I’ve spent years deciphering Nunzio’s emotions from the tiny movements in his face that I catch it. A small twitch in the left side of his mouth. It’s always been a tell.

Orrin gives me a barely there bump with his arm, signaling he’s following my lead. Four against four. I’ve dealt with far worse odds before.

“Yeah?” Nunzio asks, his voice low. “You sure know a lot for someone who went from Ras of the Casalesi to working for one of the most insignificant outfits in New York. How’d you end up here if you’re so smart?”

I smirk. “By doing stupid, reckless shit like this.”

The bullet leaves my gun before the last word leaves my mouth, but Nunzio lunges out of the way, and it only grazes his arm.

He hisses in pain and clutches his biceps. His cronies immediately draw their own weapons, but Orrin and his crew have already taken cover behind the van. I duck and roll to the left to join them as another gunshot rings out. It’s followed by the sound of glass shattering, metal clanging against metal, and a muffled groan.

Orrin curses. “Fuck, they hit the truck driver.”

“We need to end this quickly,” I tell him, peeking around the van.

I’ve been in gunfights before, but this one feels different. More personal.

I can hear Nunzio barking orders to his men.

“Now,” I snap.

With a nod from Orrin, Speedy and Chris emerge from behind the van, guns blazing. I follow closely behind, my own weapon steady in my grip. The sound of gunfire echoes in the empty parking lot, bouncing off the walls of the surrounding buildings.

Speedy takes a hit, toppling over, but so do Nunzio’s men. They fall quickly. Nunzio himself is a different story. He’s faster than I expect him to be. He dodges every bullet and manages to make it back around his car.

The air quiets.

“Leave him to me.”

“Hey, don’t be a hero,” Orrin says. “We’ve got this.”

“I said leave him to me.” My voice is laced with steel as I step out from behind the van, gun at the ready.

Nunzio stands on the other side of their car, his own weapon pointed in my direction. He sneers at me, blood trickling down his arm.

“You really think you can take me?” he taunts.

“You’re not worth anyone else’s trouble.”

He laughs, but it’s shaky. “You’ve never won against me, Ras. Not once.”

I don’t reply, just take a deep breath and aim my gun. “Why do you think that is?"

“Because you’re a fucking weak—”

My bullet pierces his skull.

Nunzio’s eyes go wide as he falls to the ground.

The bastard was too arrogant to pull his trigger before he finished his sentence.

Orrin appears beside me, surveying the bodies littering the pavement. He claps me on the back. “Cleanup’s going to be a bitch. I’ll get the boys to drop off the goods and then come back for us with supplies.”

Blood seeps out from under Nunzio’s body, the pool reflecting the moon and a starless sky.

I tuck the gun inside my waistband and stare at his ruined skull. There’s an unsettling emptiness inside my chest. I’ve fantasized about this moment for so many years, and yet I feel…nothing.

No closure, no joy, no relief.

My past has haunted me for so long, but at some point, it became irrelevant.

I scratch the side of my neck. Only one thing haunts me now, and it’s Gemma’s voice.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because I don’t love you.”





CHAPTER 34





GEMMA


Rafaele started working on getting Papà out the day I returned, and a week or so later, Papà arrives at the house.

Mamma, Cleo, and I are waiting for him in the foyer, his core crew gathered around us.

When he walks through the front door, everyone acts like he’s some kind of a hero. There’s cheering and clapping. Someone pops open a bottle of champagne.