Page 107 of Niccolo (Mafia Kings #7)

Sofia

H ours passed before we heard anything else from Zollner.

I dozed fitfully on a sofa in the parlor, but Fausto stayed up the entire time.

“Zollner just got into Venice with the girl,” he said giddily. “It’s about to begin.”

I buckled up mentally and emotionally for an extremely bumpy ride.

Half an hour later, we watched on Fausto’s tablet computer as Aurelio used his cell phone to show us where he would stay during the fight.

He stood in a small octagonal room that made up the top of the bell tower (ironically, without any bells in it).

Empty archways on every side led to a balcony with a white railing all around it.

There was a single wooden chair in the middle of the room – presumably for Lucia Fioretti.

Aurelio walked out onto the balcony and panned the camera around, giving us a superb view of the island. “We’ll have a 360-degree view. No matter which way they come, we’ll see them.”

Despite the fact San Michele was a cemetery, it was a beautiful sight, with marble crypts and groves of cypress trees against the backdrop of the Mediterranean.

I had to admit that Aurelio and Zollner had an excellent tactical advantage. Despite plenty of buildings and marble statues that could be used as cover, there was a direct line of sight from the bell tower to virtually every part of the island.

If Zollner was as good a shot as he claimed to be, then Massimo and the others were dead men.

Of course, we’d thought Mezzasalma and the Turk were unbeatable, too.

“Still think they have a snowball’s chance in hell, consigliere?” Aurelio asked me contemptuously.

I replied, “Ask me again two hours from now.”

After the virtual tour, Aurelio stood on the chair and hid his camera in the rafters of the bell tower. “So you can watch us destroy them.”

Or watch them destroy YOU, I silently retorted.

“I’m going to turn down the audio halfway, so I won’t be able to hear you with the phone up in the rafters, but I’ll talk to you after it’s all over.”

“Good luck, son,” Fausto said proudly.

“We won’t NEED any luck,” Aurelio said with a smirk. “It’s gonna be a bloodbath.”

Over the next 15 minutes, Fausto and I watched them set up.

Zollner was wearing a ridiculous green alpine hunter’s hat with a feather in the band. Not so ridiculous-looking was the massive rifle he propped up on the railing.

A few minutes later, two thugs in paramilitary gear came up the stairs with a short, young woman wearing a simple white dress.

Lucia Fioretti.

She had a black eye, and she looked pissed.

Even though she’d been kidnapped and dragged up to the top of a bell tower by a bunch of assholes, there wasn’t an ounce of victimhood in her stare – just anger.

She was a fighter; you could see it in her expression.

I liked her immediately.

Secretly, I sided with Lucia and Niccolo’s family…

And hoped Aurelio was the one who would lose today.

I also hated Aurelio, so that factored into it, too.

Not that I would ever admit it out loud.