Page 111 of Niccolo (Mafia Kings #7)

Sofia

But Fausto wouldn’t listen to me. Instead, he returned to the video feed on the tablet as we waited for Lau to call back.

The attack on San Michele started a few minutes later.

In the far distance, we could see three tiny lines speeding across the water towards the island:

The Rosolinis’ speedboats.

Other lines originating from the island sped across the water to meet them.

Wagner’s speedboats.

Not a lot could be seen –

Until one of the Wagner lines suddenly erupted in a fireball.

“Whoa,” I said without meaning to. “What was that?”

“It looks like my nephews scored first blood,” Fausto growled.

After that, the Rosolinis’ boats veered off in three separate directions and headed for different parts of the island.

The invasion had begun.

Five minutes later, Zollner fired his sniper rifle for the first time.

He apparently missed –

Because Massimo was carrying a bulletproof car door as a shield!

There’s that Rosolini unpredictability, I thought.

Every other shot Zollner took was successful, though, and he began racking up quite the body count.

Fausto would giggle obscenely every time the bounty hunter killed another Rosolini foot soldier.

However, all I could think was, Isn’t Lars a sniper, too?

Where’s HE?

Lau called Fausto as the battle continued to rage.

“Roberto just entered the building. I’m putting you on speakerphone and muting you until the appropriate time.”

“Thank you, Mr. Lau.”

Fausto muted the audio on the computer tablet, and we listened to Lau’s speakerphone as Roberto entered the room and the show began.

The gangsters’ conversation was civil, if a bit cool – until a Yakuza boss named Gota began questioning Roberto.

“I am assuming your father was Sicilian?”

“Yes.”

“And your uncle – he is Sicilian, as well?”

“He is.”

“Damn straight,” Fausto said.

“Are you Sicilian?” Gota asked.

“I’m half-Sicilian. My mother was from Florence.”

Fausto chuckled. “And that’s why you’re weak.”

“Florence was the city of the Medicis, was it not?” Gota asked. “A banking family?”

“Yes. The Medicis not only bankrolled popes, they were patrons of the arts. We wouldn’t have Michelangelo’s David or Botticelli’s Birth of Venus without the Medicis.”

“So which are you, Mr. Rosolini? A Medici… or a Sicilian?”

Fausto sneered. “He’s a Medici, through and through!”

“I can assure you, Mr. Gota, I am Sicilian when I need to be, and a Medici when it is appropriate.”

“So you are, in fact, a half-breed.”

I stared in shock at the insult.

Fausto, however, roared with laughter. “I like this Gota character!”

For the first time, I heard anger in Roberto’s voice. “Excuse me?”

“What is the English expression? ‘Neither fish nor fowl’? Why would we back a half-breed banker against a full-blooded Sicilian?”

“Excellent question!” Fausto shouted.

There was a long pause.

At that point, I knew Roberto had figured it out.

“You sided with my uncle, didn’t you,” he asked coldly.

Lau’s cheery voice chimed in. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

That was Fausto’s cue, and he played it for all it was worth. “Hello, nephew.”

When a few seconds of silence went by, Fausto asked, “Il gatto ti ha mangiato la lingua?”

Cat got your tongue?

The hatred in Roberto’s voice was unmistakable. “Hello… Uncle.”

“Now, now, Roberto, don’t be cross just because you got outplayed,” Fausto gloated. “Although, I must admit I AM disappointed. I didn’t expect you to have Niccolo’s cunning, but I DID expect you to be a bit more cautious.”

I turned away in disgust and contempt.

Fausto was both a hypocrite and a fool.

Letting Aurelio proceed with this ego-driven plan in Venice?

The exact opposite of ‘a bit more cautious.’

I tuned out the conversation and focused on the screen.

I hated Fausto, I hated Aurelio, and I secretly hoped they would fail spectacularly –

But if they did kill the majority of the brothers today, then my time here would be done.

I could get my remaining nine million euros and wash my hands of these assholes.

But if they die…

What happens to Niccolo?

Fear seized my heart.

I hoped he would run far, far away…

Somewhere I could join him after all this was over.

Not that he would ever forgive me…

But as long as I was fantasizing, I could at least give us a happy ending.

The volume was turned down on the tablet, so I couldn’t hear what was happening, but Lucia’s face suddenly scrunched up in what looked like agony –

Or an ear-splitting scream.

Zollner flinched on his next shot –

And then spun around and roared something, his face furious.

In response, Aurelio stepped over –

And punched Lucia in the face.

Not slapped –

Punched with a closed fist.

Lucia’s head snapped to the side. She looked stunned.

Me?

I was angrier than I had ever been in my entire life.

Even when my career had been ruined and dragged through the mud, I hadn’t felt such fury.

This spoiled man-child I hated –

This worm-ridden piece-of-shit coward –

Had hit a woman whose arms were bound behind her.

At that moment, I prayed to God that Aurelio would get exactly what he deserved.

And – shock of all shocks –

God delivered.