God Of Vengeance (Kings Of Mafia)

Carlo lands the helicopter on top of the building, and I wait for him to switch everything off.

“Who would attack the warehouse?” Carlo asks as he joins me

“I have no fucking idea,” I mutter while sending Emilio a text demanding an update.

Anger vibrates in my chest as we walk toward the elevator.

When my phone vibrates, I read the message from Emilio.

Three men dead. Nothing was taken. It’s weird. I don’t feel it’s safe for you to come here. Go to the club. I’ll meet you there.

Letting out a sigh, I mutter, “We’re going to the club. Emilio will meet us there.”

The news of the attack was unexpected. Sure, an enemy can crawl out of a fucking hole at any time, but usually, things are quiet over the festive season.

We take the elevator down to the basement and head to the SUV, and soon, Carlo steers the vehicle in the direction of the club.

A couple of blocks from our destination my phone starts ringing while it buzzes with message after message.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” I growl as I yank the device out of my pocket.

The words ‘under attack’ catch my attention before I answer the call. “What?”

“We’re being attacked!” Dante shouts, the noise of gunfire filling the background. “Fucking missiles hit the mansion! Four helicopters,” he relays as much information to me as possible while I hear him fire his weapon.

“The mansion!” I shout at Carlo. “It’s under attack.”

Carlo makes an illegal U-turn in the middle of the road, the tires screeching, before he floors the gas to get us back to the helicopter.

My heart stutters in my chest as the harrowing news sinks in, and for a couple of seconds, I feel completely lost.

I hear Dante suck in harsh breaths. “I don’t recognize anyone. Too many. It’s an army.”

Uncontrollable rage hits me hard, my body trembling from the violent emotion.

“Dante,” I bark. “Where are my women?”

“Don’t…”

I hear the phone hit something and listen as automatic gunfire continues to erupt in the background. It sounds like a fucking war zone.

Christ.

Gabriella. Mamma. Aunt Greta.

“What’s happening?” Carlo growls, drawing my attention to him as he brings the SUV to a sudden stop in the parking area.

“The mansion is being attacked,” I mutter, my tone dark as I shake my head. “It’s all I know.”

The elevator opens, and we rush inside. Carlo presses the button for the roof.

I still have the phone to my ear and listen as the gunfire dies down.

Who won?

Are my women safe?Original content from NôvelDrama.Org.

“Move out,” I hear a man shout, authority in his tone.

No.

“Is that the mother?” someone asks.

I grip the fabric over my heart as intense worry fills me.

“No–” I don’t hear the rest of the reply as the sound of helicopters comes over the line.

They don’t have Mamma.

Ice pours through my veins because there’s only one other person they would take to hit me where it will hurt most.

Gabriella.

I suck in a harsh breath as intense worry and anger fills every inch of my body.

“Damiano!” Carlo snaps, the same worry I’m feeling etched onto his face. “What do you hear?”

“I think they just took Gabriella,” I growl as I listen to the sounds of the helicopters fading away.

I’m stunned that someone would even dare to take me on.

Only those closest to me know where the mansion is.

This is an attack by someone I trusted.

I end the call with Dante and dial Emilio’s number.

“I’m almost at the club, boss,” he answers.

“Get every fucking man we have to the mansion. They hit my home.” The words rumble from me as an avalanche of emotions crashes over me.

“Jesus, boss. We’re on our way.”

I end the call, and as I walk out onto the roof, I bring up the group chat for the other heads of the Cosa Nostra.

The moment Angelo’s face appears, I don’t wait for the others to answer and say, “They hit my fucking home.”

“What?” he gasps, shock tightening his features.

Franco, Renzo, and Dario join the call.

“Someone attacked the lake mansion,” I say, the words that are still hard to believe. “I need you. Meet me at the mansion.”

“We’re coming,” Angelo replies, anger brimming in his voice.

As I climb into the helicopter, I bring up Gabriella’s number, and even though I know she won’t answer, I press dial.

The call instantly goes to voicemail, and I dial Gerardo’s number.

As the helicopter lifts into the air, Gerardo’s phone just rings, and desperation pours into my chest.

I start trying one number after the other, but they all either go straight to voicemail or go unanswered.

“I can’t reach anyone,” I growl.

“We’ll be there soon,” Carlos says, but I hear the dread in his voice.

Not soon enough.

We’re already too late.

Someone fucking attacked me. Attacked my home. My women.

Just as I start to process the initial shock, the mansion comes into view, and my heart is ripped from my chest by the devastating sight.

“Christ,” I whisper.

Smoke billows from the right wing, and there’s a huge hole where my suite should be.

My suite.

That’s where I left the women.

The bodies of all my guards and the enemy’s men lay strewn over the yard.

Carlo sets the helicopter down, and I shove the door open. Jumping out of the aircraft, I break out into a run as I draw my gun from behind my back.

I have to jump over debris and bodies to get to the veranda.

When I run into the mansion, more bodies lie scattered over the floor. I recognize some of my men.

Carlo catches up to me. “Gerardo would’ve taken the women to the armory.”

We rush toward the front door, but as I glance at the kitchen, I see Gerardo’s body.

“Fuck!”

No! Christ. Please.

I change direction, and as we storm into the kitchen, Carlo lets out a wounded cry, “Ma!”

My eyes land on Aunt Greta, who’s lying in a pool of blood.

Christ, no.

“Ma,” Carlo cries again as he drops to his knees beside her. He checks her vitals, and when he begins to shake his head, my heart aches.

This is our worst nightmare.

“Ma,” he whispers before he pulls her into his arms.

“Carlo?” I hear Mamma’s frightened voice.

I hear boxes fall from the direction of the pantry and hurry to open the door.

Seeing my mother trying to stand up between boxes of coffee and sugar, the relief hits me so hard I can barely breathe.

“Mamma!” I grab hold of her, and lifting her out of the panty, I hug her fucking tight to my body. “Thank God.”

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t do anything,” she starts to cry, her body trembling hard from the shock she suffered.

I glance at Carlo and see how he lays Aunt Greta back down before brushing his hand over her cheek.

“We’ll find who’s responsible for this and get our revenge,” he whispers to her, then he gasps through his pain, “Jesus, Ma.”

I take Mamma to where Carlo is and hate as the words fall over my lips, “Aunt Greta is gone. Stay with Carlo while I check the rest of the mansion.”

Mamma lets out a sob as she carefully lowers herself to the floor. Her hand bumps against Carlo’s arm, then she pulls him into a hug.

“I’m so sorry,” she cries. “Caro Dio. We had no warning.”

Sorrow hangs thick in the air as I walk to the doorway, but before I can leave, I hear Mamma say, “Gabriella! I think they took her. I couldn’t hear everything, but when they asked where I was, she told them she’s Mrs. Falco. It got quiet after that.”

Dread shudders through me as Mamma confirms what I already knew deep down.

As I stand between the kitchen and the foyer, my eyes drift over all the destruction and bodies.

Pulling my phone from my pocket, I dial Dario’s number.

“I’m thirty minutes out,” he answers.

I can hear his R8 roaring as he pushes the sports car to its limits.

“Whoever attacked took Gabriella. Get facial recognition going and search the fucking globe for her.”

“On it.”

I end the call and stare at Mamma and Carlo as they mourn losing Aunt Greta.

I shove all the shock and grief to the back of my mind, and a deadly thirst for vengeance bleeds into my soul.

“Get up,” I order. “We have work to do.”