Chapter 13 - Bloodline Justice
They never cleared their holsters.
From the dark industrial catwalks sixty feet above, red laser dots danced across the chests of Silvio's four men.
*Crack. Crack. Crack. Crack.*
Four suppressed high-caliber rifle rounds punched through their skulls with terrifying synchronization. The bodyguards collapsed to the floor like empty sacks of grain before their guns even hit the ground.
Marco stepped out from behind a stack of shipping crates, holding a customized sniper rifle, his eyes blazing with fury.
"I told you I was loyal, Boss," Marco said through the comms.
The remaining eight capos immediately raised their hands, terrified of the unseen marksmen in the rafters. Dante backed away from Silvio as if the old man were covered in burning acid.
"Silvio," I said, stepping around the table until I was standing inches from my trembling uncle. "Did you really think Sofia would die without leaving a ledger?"
"Alejandro... please," the old man whimpered, falling to his knees, his hands clasping together in desperate prayer. "I did it for the family! Sofia was turning you soft! You were talking about legitimizing the businesses! You were going to dissolve the syndicates! We would have lost billions!"
"My wife gave me four sons," I whispered into his ear, grabbing him by the hair and pulling his head back until his neck tendons strained. "Four boys who had to live in hiding, eating scraps, while you drank vintage wine in my clubs."
"Four...?" Silvio gasped, tears of raw terror spilling from his eyes. "The surrogates... they all survived?"
"They did," I whispered. "And they will inherit everything I own. But you... you won't even get a grave."
I drew my combat knife.
"For Sofia," I muttered.
May you like
The warehouse went dead silent. The only sound that followed was the wet, decisive end of a five-year betrayal.
***