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Instead of Rhett and Francesca walking back in, two masked men walk through the open doors holding guns. As soon as guests notice them, screams and panic echo through the building as people jump up from their spots and try to run away from the entrance.
The gunmen look our way before lifting their guns and pulling the triggers.
Time returns to normal as Savannah and I are thrown to the ground. She pulls me behind the cake table, shoving me against the wall as gunshots ricochet.
“Sorry.” She mouths when I wince.
Women scream in fear.
Men shout at each other.
I peek around the table and immediately feel as if I’m going to lose the contents of my stomach. The pastel decorations on the tables and walls are splattered with blood. Blood drips on the floor, pooling up in spots.
Bodies lie limp on the ground or hunch over tables. Groans can be heard from people who were hit by stray bullets.
What was supposed to be a happy, fun-filled day has turned into a nightmare. My vision blurs as I think about my son’s future.
I don’t want this life for him. I don’t want his girlfriend or wife to constantly live in fear, wondering when the next attack will be.
But the fact of the matter is, it’s too late. He is the heir to the Marino mafia, and there will always be people coming for him and his throne.