She knew Val would be looking for Tommaso. They had all exits blocked. The clients couldn’t leave. They had sealed their fate when they’d actually bid on the teenagers, buying them as if they had the right to purchase human beings. Tommaso couldn’t count on any of the men outside or upstairs. They were already dead. The teens’ handlers were dead. He had only his soldiers and the mercenaries that were assigned downstairs. Those men were utilizing every bit of cover they could find, suddenly finding themselves fighting for their lives.
The clients were already dead or dying, caught between the two armies. Stefano and his brothers did their best to get the waitresses out a side door to the sunroom and then outside. One was still trapped and was lying on the floor with her hands over her head. Emmanuelle beckoned to her. The woman lifted her head up a few inches, and then a look of determination came over her. Staying on her belly, she crawled to Emme.
“Stay low,” Emmanuelle cautioned. “Don’t move until I say.”
The woman nodded. The room was trashed, with tables overturned and bodies strewn on the floor like bloodied mannequins. Emme spotted Dario in the far corner, near one of the massive pillars, steadily firing his weapon, his eyes tracking the room as he did so. Valentino was on the other side of the pillar, picking his targets, but he, also, was looking for one man.
Emme stretched her arm out, fingers managing to snag the barrel of a gun from a fallen enemy. She pulled it toward her. The movement attracted the attention of a man just off to her left. He was crouched down in the sunken conversation area, protected on two sides by floor-to-ceiling marble fountains and a stone fireplace. With him were five others, surrounding him, clearly trying to shield him. Their ultimate goal was to make it to the door just behind her, the same exit she was trying to get the waitress safely out.
Tommaso gave her a wide, evil grin as recognition settled over him. “Valentino’s little bride.” He indicated her to the others.
There was no cover between her and the men. None. Emmanuelle didn’t hesitate. “Get out. Go now.” Firing the gun rapidly at Tommaso and his crew to give the waitress a chance to get out of the building, Emme rolled away from her, hoping to find a shadow to disappear into.
Valentino came out of nowhere, striding right through the bodies, the death and destruction, as if he were invincible, as if no bullet could possibly touch him. He was grim-faced, a dark demon rising from the very pits of hell, his weapon spouting bright orange and blue flames with each thundering pull of the trigger.
Dario, Severu, Levi and Axel moved with him, keeping the firepower steady on Tommaso and his crew, forcing them to turn toward the new threat. Two of Tommaso’s men went down. Tommaso crawled on his belly away from his circle of protection, toward Emme, as the Saldi men approached without once breaking stride. He stopped abruptly, cursing, his head swiveling from side to side as he tried to see where she could have gone.
Then Valentino was standing over him, kicking away his weapon, kicking him in the ribs, his gut. He crouched down beside his cousin. “Where are the little kids?” he asked, his voice low. Quiet. Velvet soft. “Angelo’s got them, but you know where they are and you’re going to tell me.”
“Fuck you, Val,” Tommaso yelled. By contrast his voice was shrill.
Val shot him through his left hand. Tommaso screamed and rolled back and forth, looking around frantically for help.
“I asked you a question.”
“I don’t know.”
Valentino calmly shot him through the top of his left foot. Tommaso’s screams rose to new heights.
“I’m tired, Tommaso, it’s been a long day. Your entire crew is dead. Your mercenaries are dead. The teens have been rescued and taken to a hospital. There’s no money for your father to send up the food chain. I imagine his partner is getting a little impatient by this time. Just like I am. I want those kids. The next bullet goes into your right hand. We’ll start on that side of your body.”
“Wait. Wait, Val.” Tommaso held up his left, bloody, shaking hand. “I don’t know specifically, but he and Marge have several places they would take them.” His voice shook, and he kept rolling from side to side as if he could get away from the pain.
“I’ll need to know where those places are, Tommaso,” Val said, his voice exactly the same: Patient. Calm. Almost soothing.
Tommaso rolled toward Valentino and suddenly lunged at him, the blade of a knife going straight toward his heart. Simultaneously, Emmanuelle emerged from a shadow to the right of Tommaso’s head, hands gripping hard and wrenched, breaking his neck. Dario fired three shots, two between the eyes, one into his left eye. Levi shot him in the heart twice, and Axel shot him in the throat twice. Valentino’s gun also spit out three bullets, one through the palm holding the knife, two to the gut, because he wanted the man to die slowly and suffer. It seemed like that wasn’t going to happen.