Chapter 12 - Flesh and Iron
|
The warehouse fell silent as the last of Moretti's men were subdued or eliminated by Elias's security team.
Rain drummed loudly on the metal roof above.
Valenti lay on his back, groaning in pain, looking up at Elias with eyes full of terror and hatred. "Elias... please! It wasn't my idea! Moretti promised me—"
"Moretti promised you my mother's life," Elias said, stepping on Valenti's wounded knee. Valenti shrieked in agony. "You knew my mother since I was a child, Frank. She made you coffee when you were nothing but a street runner."
"She was old! She was dying anyway!" Valenti wept.
Elias’s face went stone cold. He raised his weapon, aiming it straight between Valenti’s eyes.
"Elias, wait," Marin said, stepping out from behind the Mercedes.
Elias didn't lower the gun, but his eyes flicked to her. "He tried to murder my family, Marin."
"I know," Marin said calmly, walking over to him. She gently placed her bare hand over his gun-hand, feeling the rigid tension in his muscles. "If you kill him now, his lieutenants in the North District will claim you went rogue and start a full war. Bring him to the council alive. Let him confess in front of every boss in the city."
Elias looked from Marin’s steady, clear eyes down to her hand on his weapon. The fiery rage in his chest slowly transformed into calculated, lethal discipline.
"She's right," Marco agreed, stepping up with flex-cuffs. "If the syndicate council hears him confess, the Morettis lose all legal protection."
Elias slowly lowered the gun. "Patch him up, Marin. Don't let him bleed out before nine AM."
May you like
Marin pulled a tourniquet from her kit, wrapping it around Valenti's leg with ruthless precision. She tightened the rod until Valenti gasped for air.
"Comfortable?" Marin whispered into the traitor's ear. "That’ll be forty dollars."
