Chapter 7 - Blood in the Wine
|
Dessert was served—a rich tiramisu that smelled heavily of espresso and dark chocolate.
Isadora finally picked up her spoon, the tension of the dinner exhausting her to her core. She was about to take a bite when Gio’s hand suddenly shot out, gripping her wrist with bruising force beneath the table.
She gasped softly, looking up at him.
Gio’s eyes were not on her. They were fixed on the reflection in the ornate mirror hanging behind Silvio.
One of the servers—a young man Isadora had never seen before—was approaching the table with a fresh bottle of wine. His hands were trembling, and his eyes were wide with a frantic, desperate terror.
He wasn't reaching for the wine glasses. He was reaching into his vest.
"Get down!" Gio roared, his voice shattering the civilized veneer of the dining room.
Gio didn't just push her; he threw Isadora violently from her chair. She crashed onto the hardwood floor, the breath knocked from her lungs, just as the deafening crack of a gunshot echoed through the room.
The server had pulled a suppressed pistol. The bullet meant for Gio’s chest shattered the crystal chandelier above the table instead, raining sharp, deadly glass down upon the remaining men.
Chaos erupted.
Rocco bellowed in pain as glass tore into his face. Silvio scrambled backward, overturning his heavy wooden chair, shouting for the guards.
The assassin aimed again, his hands shaking wildly, locking his sights on Isadora as she tried to crawl away from the debris.
Before he could pull the trigger, Gio vaulted over the massive oak table. He moved with a terrifying, primal speed, a predator unleashed. He tackled the assassin to the floor, driving his knee brutally into the man’s ribs.
The pistol clattered across the marble tiles.
Gio grabbed the man by the throat, hoisting him up with one hand while drawing his own weapon from his shoulder holster with the other.
"Who sent you?" Gio snarled, pressing the hot barrel of his gun directly beneath the assassin’s chin.
The young man was weeping, blood pouring from his nose. "I had to! They have my sister! They told me to kill the girl and the Boss!"
"Who?" Gio roared, his dark eyes burning with unadulterated fury.
Before the boy could answer, a second shot rang out.
The assassin went limp in Gio’s grip, a neat, fatal bullet hole appearing in the center of his forehead.
Isadora screamed, covering her ears.
Gio dropped the dead body and spun around, raising his weapon.
May you like
Silvio stood at the far end of the room, a smoking pistol in his hand. He looked perfectly calm, smoothing the lapels of his suit.
"He was about to shoot you, Giovanni," Silvio said smoothly, lowering his weapon. "I had to intervene."
