Page 4 of Dark Breaker

His face darkens.

“She says it wasn’t her,” Luciano intones dangerously. “So it wasn’t. I don’t appreciate random people stalking my sister.”

Fabio takes a step toward him and balls his fists. “Iwasn’tfollowing her. Women throw themselves at me… you think I’d stoop to something so low?” He shakes his head. “I don’t have time for this shit.”

He reaches inside his tuxedo and produces a pistol.

Luciano ducks behind the open door of his Maserati just in time.

Fabio fires three shots into the door, ignoring the shouts of other people in the parking lot.

I watch in horror as Fabio relentlessly approaches that door. He’s like a hunter tracking his prey, except in this case the prey is my brother.

I know Luciano has a weapon, but he’s not firing back. Is he hit?

I dash forward before Fabio can get my brother into his weapon sights. I scream “no!”

Fabio starts to turn toward me but I leap on his back and hammer his head with my fists. “You bastard! Get away from him!”

Fabio throws me off and I land on my back on the roof of his Lamborghini, partially collapsing the soft top.

My brother uses the opportunity to lean out from behind the door of his Maserati and finally fire back.

Fabio vaults past me, onto the hood of his lambo, and rolls to the other side. He opens the door and ducks inside.

I leap off as he starts the engine and then I hide behind my Vespa. Luciano remains in cover behind his door, but I can see his pistol poking out past the edge, tracking the lambo.

Fabio doesn’t try to fire back, instead he pulls out of the lot with his tires squealing in much the same manner as Luciano entered.

My brother clambers to his feet and steps out from behind the Maserati. He walks with a visible limp.

I run to him. “Oh my God, are you all right? I’m so sorry for calling you.”

“I’m fine,” he says. “Stupid bullet went through the door.” He examines his damaged Maserati.

“Who cares about the door?” I tell him. “We have to take care of your leg.” I can see the hole in his jean. There’s a growing red stain running all the way down beneath. It looks bad.

He shakes his head. “Later. I’ll call the doc.” He sits in his car, and leans over the passenger seat to open up the glove box. He grabs a first aid kit and wraps a tourniquet around his thigh to staunch the blood. When it’s done, he pauses to wipe his hands clean, then shuts the door.

“Go,” he tells me. “The cops will show up soon. Follow me to the ferry. I want to make sure he leaves you alone until then at least.”

I start heading to my Vespa, but then pause to look at Luciano askance. “What are we going to do?”

“That was Fabio D’Alimonte,” Luciano says. “You know that right?”

“Yes,” I tell him.

He nods. “Then you also know we’ve just started a war with his family.”

“What?” I ask. “Why? He’s the one who attackedme!”

He points at his leg. “My brothers aren’t going to be too happy about what he did to me, or you. And Fabio himself isn’t going to be very pleased about his car. Even if you didn’t key it, he doesn’t believe it. Plus you damaged his soft top.”

“That’s because he threw me onto it!” I complain.

Luciano shakes his head. “Even so, mafiosi don’t like it when you damage their property, no matter the circumstances. I’m going to have to call Massimo. See if we can find a way to negotiate our way out of this.”

“And if we can’t?” I ask him.