“Peace.”
Gianni considers the proposal, and I already know his answer. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what he should do. If I was Italian, then maybe Gianni would have to choose war, but I’m just a lowly Irishmen, even if I’m the best muscle he’s ever had. Killing me may be a show of disloyalty to his men, but it wouldn’t even be a blip compared to killing a blood member of the Barone family.
I desperately scan the room for a way out. Fear festers in my gut where once there was only ice. I almost want to curse Nia’s name for melting my cold defences. A week ago, I might have just accepted my fate, or at least taken a couple of men out with me, but now, neither of those options seem good enough.
I need to get out of here. I need to see Nia again.
“Ronan,” Gianni commands. “Come.”
I hesitate for a moment, before realizing I don’t have any other option. Slowly, I step out into space between the two crime families and walk down the aisle to my doom.
I’ve nearly given up completely, when I spot it.
Gianni’s hand-grenades. The one he keeps on his desk to remind people that he can fight just as well as he can lead. Is it still live? Can it get me out of this mess?
I try not to give away my sudden plan as I step in front of Gianni’s desk. I can feel the anger seething out of the Bratva side of the aisle. It’s like a heatwave compared to Gianni’s icy glare.
“Why did you shoot that man?” the godfather asks, gesturing towards Semyon.
“Because he was shooting at me,” I respond. There’s no way I’m mentioning Nia.
“There was a girl!” shouts Semyon.
I sneer and get ready to make my lunge for one of the grenades.
“And you were going to shoot them?” Gianni asks Semyon.
Semyon struggles to find a response. “They... They were coming up on my territory. I... I didn’t know he worked for you.”
“And now you want him dead, for defending himself?”
Semyon’s words are stuck in his throat, but Vadim picks up the baton for his fumbling grandchild. “Reasons do not matter when life and death are involved. We need blood for blood, it is the way of the Bratva. If it were one of your family members, we would ask only for a bullet to the leg, but this man does not look like one of you. He looks like an outsider. He is below us, and therefore, we require his life.”
“Yeah, and the girl’s too,” Semyon chimes in, licking his lips. I can almost see the blood in his eyes. I’ll give him blood...
Gianni raises his palm to the Russians, and, ever the businessman, straightens his tie with his o
ther hand. “You want both of their lives?”
“Gianni... Godfather,” I blurt out, before I can stop myself. A cage is tightening around my racing heat. He wants Nia... My fists shake so violently I worry I might not even be able to grip a hand grenade. I would never beg if it was just my own life on the line, but for Nia, I’ll do anything.
“You only get one life,” Gianni announces to the Russians. Then, he turns to me. “It’s you or the girl, Ronan.”
That’s enough to make me lunge for the grenades.
Before anyone can react, I’m holding one up for everyone to see. I make a big show of wrapping my finger around the trigger, making it clear that I’m ready to pull, even if it means taking me out with it.
Anything for Nia.
No one’s moving. Even Gianni has frozen. That’s a good sign; it means he’s worried that the grenade might actually work.
“You can come for me on the street,” I growl, releasing the fire raging in my gut. “But I’m not dying on my knees.”
Slowly, I back down the aisle, keeping my eyes focused straight ahead. I can tell no one on the either side wants to risk getting their heads blown off, but Vadim and Semyon are still shaking with anger.
“Get him!” shouts Semyon, and it doesn’t matter how scared his Russian soldiers might be, they’re not scared enough to disobey orders. I can hear men behind me shuffling forward.
I think of Nia one last time, but other than that, I don’t hesitate.