Mercenary (Gangsters of New York #3) - Bella Di Corte Page 0,100

let you kill me now. Or anyone that I love.”

Two shots whistled through the air, but it did not come from my gun. The force of the bullets made his body jump as two holes appeared in his chest.

“Alcina.”

It took me a minute to realize that Corrado was talking to me. That he had taken the gun from me. That his hand was on my head and he was trying to get me to pay attention.

“Eleonora,” he said, his phone to his ear, tucking his gun and the one I had behind his back when I looked at him.

I pointed behind me. He pulled me close, kissing my head, and then he started to talk to Uncle Tito. As he did, he dropped to the floor beside Anna, checking her pulse. I followed him. I took her hand, holding it close to my heart. The breath left me in a rush when Corrado ran his hand through her hair and she hissed.

He spoke a few more words. Hung up. Dialed again. Spoke a few more words. Men started to flood the room. Corrado stared at me again. Got up and went to the fireplace. He did something and it opened. He brought me Eleonora, and I held her close to my heart, kissing her head over and over. Mamma sat beside me, taking care of Anna until Uncle Tito arrived and checked her over.

Corrado stared at me again, studying me.

I will be damned if I let you kill me. Or anyone that I love.

Those were the same words I had spoken to Junior after he almost beat me to death. After he told me he would have my entire family killed. Right before I cut his balls off.

I took a deep breath, released it, and then kissed Eleonora on her head. I stood, just like I had done after Junior had tried to snuff me out, and started to get my fire back.

My life was my own.

I had something to live for—something I always knew would be mine someday. Life and the freedom to live it with my family. I had risked it all for this moment, no matter how dark it was.

I would be damned if I let this steal my light now.

32

Corrado

I was living proof that devils didn’t only creep in the night. They claimed in broad daylight and then hid their prizes in the darkness.

My wife was trying to fight the demons Vito had brought to light again.

“You could not kill me before. I will be damned if I let you kill me now. Or anyone that I love.”

Those words burned me to my fucking core. I could tell when she had been looking at Vito—the rat that had been hiding in our trash—she had been remembering Junior, reliving what had happened to her.

Every so often, I’d pull out the picture Anna had taken of her after Junior had beaten her in Italy, so I’d feel the fire of what he’d done to her in my bones. I would trace the silver scars left on her face from his fist some nights. Each one was a reflection of what could be seen in the picture.

She would only speak about what Junior had done to her when I brought it up.

I had an uncle who would only speak of war when asked. He’d give few details, and after, it was over. He didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

Alcina gave off those same vibes whenever I mentioned it.

If I could go back and kill both of the fuckers again, I would, but since it was impossible to die twice—for most of us—there was nothing I could do but watch her. Watch her to make sure she was not slipping too far away from me.

We were at the park with Eleonora. Alcina wanted to get her out of the house, and since I’d been paranoid ever since Vito, I hadn’t let either one of them out of my sight.

It was the only time I didn’t think about that Machiavellian motherfucker and getting rid of him. Though at night, Vittorio Scarpone’s blood haunted me like a ghost. It taunted and teased me.

I couldn’t even find a picture of the man he once was. Which was fucking strange in itself. We lived in an age when information was readily available at the tap of a key, but there was nothing on the former Prince of New York?

Yeah, I wasn’t fucking buying it. So I got in touch with one of my