Page 39 of Vincenzo (The DiMaggio Crime Family #3)
“You don’t call the shots here. I do. Now drop the gun or princesa here dies.”
“I’m being awfully fucking cooperative with you, Manuel. The least you could do is pay me the same respect.”
“Letting you both live is paying you with the same respect.”
“Just drop the fucking gun and let me go,” Diego says.
Enzo twists his arm even farther and says, “Be quiet, little boy. Your daddy and I are talking.”
A small laugh falls from my lips that I cover up with a cough. Only Enzo could make me laugh at a time like this.
“Release my son, Vincenzo,” my uncle grinds out.
“Of course. As soon as you release Amalia,” he says, the tone in his voice light but unwavering.
“ Stop trying to negotiate with me,” my uncle says in frustration. Enzo’s getting to him, and this might work in our favor.
“I’ve already told you we’re going to leave and never speak about you people again. The least you could fucking do is compromise with me. I’m keeping my fucking gun, and I’m not releasing your bitch of a son until you release Amalia.”
My uncle is silent, but he lets out a rough sigh. “Fine, but you pull some shit with me, and you’re as good as dead. You have several sets of eyes on you, so think about that before you act.”
“Fine,” Enzo says. “Now let her go.”
“You better act right, Amalia,” my uncle whispers in my ear.
“Wouldn’t dream of acting wrong,” I mutter.
My uncle’s grip in my hair loosens, and he drops his gun from behind me, but he still has a hold of my arm.
“Your turn,” he says.
Enzo drops his gun from Diego’s head and releases his arm. Diego scrunches his nose and rolls his arm out, surely sore from the position Enzo had him in.
“Go,” my uncle says, and I run toward Enzo while my cousin hurries back to his dad.
I want to jump in Enzo’s arms—to feel them wrapped around me in safety and comfort—but I know this isn’t the time. My uncle clearly doesn’t have any qualms with being a shady piece of shit, so we have to be on alert, prepared for anything to happen.
When I get to Enzo, he reaches out for me, pulling me into his side. We both face my uncle and his men.
“?Estás bien?” my uncle asks Diego. Are you okay?
“Sí,” he responds, continuing to roll out his shoulder.
“Your cousin’s gun is to the left of your foot,” Enzo mumbles under his breath just loud enough for me to hear. “If shit hits the fan like I expect it to, you get that gun and take out the three on the left. I’ll take out the others. Got it?”
“Got it,” I whisper back, dropping my gaze to the gun. It’s only a few feet away from me, so I could easily retrieve it, but not knowing what my uncle has planned for us next is concerning. We’re all close in proximity to each other, so anything could happen.
“Go get yourself together,” my uncle says to Diego, who reluctantly nods and heads toward the back where Pedro and two guards are.
I make eye contact with my uncle who’s gazing back at us with a mischievous glint in his eyes, and that’s when I know he’s about to go back on his word.
“Well?” he says. “Are you going to leave?”
Enzo tightens his hold around my waist. “That depends. Are you going to let us?”
My uncle waves his hand out and says, “I made a deal with you, sí ? Go on. But don’t let me find out either of you decide to go back on it.”
I narrow my gaze on him, not trusting a word that comes out of his mouth.
He’s saying we can leave, but the way his eyes gleam in the night and the way his finger tightens on the trigger of his gun tell me otherwise.
He might not have it aimed at us right now, but I guarantee he will the second we have our backs turned to him.
Me and Enzo look over at each other. I study him, trying to get a feel for what he wants to do.
Does he want to chance it and walk away?
Because if he does and my uncle decides to go back on his word, then the farther I’ll be from grabbing the gun.
If we want any chance of getting out of here alive, I need that gun.
As if reading my mind, Enzo’s eyes shoot over to where the gun is lying a few feet away. That’s the tell. He’s telling me to go for the gun.
He squeezes my side, and I make the split-second decision. Dropping down to my knees, I reach for the gun. The loud bang from a gunshot going off sounds from behind me, but I don’t look to see who was shot— there’s no time .
Time slows and the adrenaline spikes through me as I grab the gun and aim it at my uncle who’s in the process of raising his. I don’t think, I just shoot.
Another handful of shots go off while the barrel of my gun finds its way to Pedro whose eyes are wide with the commotion of everything.
Without another thought, I pull the trigger, releasing the bullet that sinks into Pedro’s chest. I scan the area quickly and see that no one else is standing except Enzo.
“What the hell just happened?” I ask, panting as if I just ran a marathon.
Enzo falls to my side and says, “I don’t know. One moment you’re dropping to the ground to pick up the gun, and the next a gunshot goes off.”
I furrow my brow. “Wasn’t that from you?”
“No,” he says, shaking his head. “The first gunshot hit one of the guys over to the left. I didn’t even have my gun raised when it happened.”
“If it wasn’t you, then who?—”
The sound of a twig snapping comes from behind, which has us whipping around with our guns raised.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” the intruder says. “You really going to pull your guns on the one person who just saved both of your asses?”