Chapter 8 - THE REAL MASTERMIND
Before anyone could react, Carlo pulled his secondary sidearm from his ankle holster, spun around, and aimed the barrel straight at Lorenzo DeLuca’s chest.
"Carlo?!" Matteo yelled in disbelief.
"I'm sorry, boss," Carlo said, his hand steady on the trigger, his face twisted in cold ambition. "Thirty years I served you! Thirty years taking orders, living in your shadow! Marco offered me ten percent of the entire East Coast operation once you and Matteo were gone!"
The surrounding DeLuca guards froze, terrified that any movement would force Carlo to pull the trigger on their boss.
Lorenzo didn't step back. He looked at his head of security with a look of profound, cold disappointment. "Carlo. You were a brother to me."
"Brothers don't get treated like servants!" Carlo snarled. "It ends tonight!"
Carlo shifted his finger on the trigger.
Mia didn't have time to draw her gun. Her ankle was too weak to launch another jump.
So she did the one thing nobody expected.
She reached down, grabbed a heavy, three-pound brass lawn sprinkler head sticking out of the flowerbed beside her, and hurled it with all her strength straight at Carlo’s head.
CRACK!
The heavy brass object struck Carlo square in the side of his jaw.
His head snapped back, his gunshot going wildly off target into the night sky (BANG!), as he stumbled backward, clutching his broken face.
Before Carlo could regain his balance, Matteo lunged forward, slamming his fist into Carlo’s throat, sweeping his legs out, and pinning the traitor face-down on the wet stone.
Matteo pressed his gun against the back of Carlo’s neck. "Don't move," Matteo hissed through gritted teeth. "Give me one reason not to pull this trigger."
"Matteo, no," Mia said softly, stepping forward and placing a gentle hand on Matteo’s shoulder. "He’s worth more alive. Let your father handle the family business cleanly."
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Matteo looked up at Mia. The wild rage in his dark eyes slowly faded as he looked into her calm, steady gaze. He took a deep breath, lowered his weapon, and nodded.
"Take him away," Lorenzo commanded quietly, his voice hollow as he watched his oldest friend dragged away in handcuffs.
