Chapter 13 - The Aftermath
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Lena crawled backward down the hallway, keeping her body pressed tightly against the floor. The second assassin was firing indiscriminately into the dark, shredding the family photos hanging on the walls.
Click. Click.
The assassin’s gun locked empty.
Lena didn't wait. She popped up from the floor, stepped out from the cover of the hallway corner, and leveled her Glock at the kitchen.
The man was frantically trying to shove a fresh magazine into his pistol. He looked up, his eyes widening as he stared down the barrel of Lena’s gun.
She fired twice.
Both shots hit center mass. The man slumped against the refrigerator and slid to the floor, leaving a thick smear of crimson on the stainless steel door.
Silence rushed back into the house, heavy and ringing.
Lena stood in the hallway, her arms shaking so badly she could barely hold the weapon. The smell of cordite and copper filled her beautiful, ordinary home. She stared at the two dead men bleeding out on her kitchen tiles. She had just killed two human beings.
Before the shock could fully set in, the front door violently shattered.
Lena spun around, raising her gun with a terrified scream, her finger tight on the trigger.
“Lena! Don't shoot! It’s me!”
Matteo stood in the ruined doorway. He was drenched in rain and blood, his trench coat torn, his left hand pressing a blood-soaked rag against his shoulder. Dante stood right behind him, his heavy rifle raised.
Matteo dropped his weapon and ran to her, wrapping his good arm around her waist and pulling her against his chest.
Lena finally dropped the Glock. It hit the floor with a heavy thud. She buried her face in Matteo’s uninjured shoulder and began to sob uncontrollably. The adrenaline crashed, leaving her utterly hollow.
“I got them,” she cried into his coat. “They broke in, Matteo. I shot them.”
Matteo looked over her shoulder into the kitchen. He saw the two dead assassins, heavily armed, lying in pools of blood. He saw the bullet holes in the walls. He looked down at his wife, realizing how close he had come to losing the only thing in the world that mattered to him.
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The remorse that had governed Matteo’s life for three years instantly vanished. It was replaced by a darkness so profound it made Dante take a step back.
“You did perfectly, my love,” Matteo whispered, kissing the top of her head. He looked at Dante over Lena’s shoulder, his eyes entirely black. “Call the rest of the families. Tell them the truce is over. We are burning Victor alive.”
