He groans, but he keeps his momentum and wraps his arms around my waist to bring me to the ground. We hit the wooden floor together, and I immediately try to get on top of him, wary of the thrusting knife. We’re evenly matched as we struggle. One moment, I’m about to get on top of him and bring my knife to his throat, and the next, he’s got his elbow in my gut and is worming his way away before I get my hands on him again, trading blows and grappling with each other.
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice something—Serena. She’s crawling out of bed and is moving toward what I recognize as Lorenzo’s coat on the ground, and she starts digging through it hastily.
But I can’t focus on it too long—whatever Serena’s doing, I don’t want Lorenzo to put his attention on it. I pull him up to his knees with me and bring my head down on his, hard, dazing both of us before I stagger back and he tries to jump up, shaky on his feet.
“Is that how you learned to fight in the Bronx?” he laughs, spitting blood to the side as he tries to refocus his eyes. “If that’s the best you’ve got then- AAAAGHHHH!”
Lorenzo shrieks in pain and falls to his knee as Serena scrambles away from his legs, blood pouring from the Achilles tendon she just cut. In her right hand, her knife Passerotta glistens with its first ruby-red blood. I see the telltale look of an adrenaline rush in her eyes, and when he opens his eyes in a rage to slash behind him at her, she skillfully dodges out of the way, just like I taught her.
He struggles to his good leg to come at her again, but in the millisecond he turns his back on me, I fly at him, and I catch him from behind, putting my knife to his throat.
“Tell the devil there’s more where you came from,” I growl before my knife rips through his throat, opening his neck to let hot blood run over my arms as Serena watches the life fade from Lorenzo Abruzzi.
I release him, and his body crumples to the ground, blood pooling around him.
For a moment, we just stand there. My eyes move from Lorenzo, then up to Serena standing before me and Rafaela looking stunned on the bed. The next moment I step forward and Serena is already halfway to meeting me, our arms locking as I hug her tight to me.
“You’re alive!” Serena says through a sob, “Bruno, I thought you were dead!”
“Hell wouldn’t keep me away from you, passerotta mia,” I say, my heart soaring as we’re reunited, breathing the same air and feeling each other’s warmth once again. Just as it should be.
But we don’t have time for a proper reunion. I look between Rafaela and Serena. “Are either of you hurt?”
“No,” Rafaela says, her smile of relief fading as she stands up from the bed, looking at the door as if making sure nobody was coming. “Our egos are a little bruised, but seeing these bastards on the ground makes up for it, I think.”
“Bruno, he was going to-” Serena starts, but she’s unable to finish as I hug her to me. I know just what kinds of memories this dragged back up for her.
“It’s over now,” I say reassuringly, holding her close. “It’s all over. I told you, Serena, as long as I’m alive, nobody will hold you against your will.”
Serena smiles warmly up at me, but I can tell she’s shaken badly. These aren’t the kinds of scars that heal overnight.
“We need to get out of here,” I say, nodding to the door. “There’s still a compound full of soldiers who don’t know their boss is dead.”
“I got Lorenzo’s keys,” Rafaela says, holding up Lorenzo’s jacket. “Any ideas how to get out of here?”
“A worker showed me a way up here,” I say, remembering the cleaning lady heading downstairs. “And I have a feeling we can take it down to somewhere that won’t be crawling with gunmen. Stay close to me and move as quietly as you can.”
I t’s nearly twenty minutes later that we’ve peeled out of the compound in Lorenzo’s own car, out the back road and to civilization where it’s too crowded to chase us. Besides, with Lorenzo dead and his capo gone, the organization in the compound is shot to hell.
We make it out without trouble, and before we know it, it’s like we’re in a totally different world.
I’m driving, my bloodstained shirt drying in the sunlight as the luxury sports car rolls down the roads just outside New York City proper. Serena sits in the passenger’s seat, her legs close together as she holds her arms, looking out the window with a dreamy look in her eyes. Rafaela is in the back seat, looking up at the ceiling with a look of disbelief on her face.
Back in the city, the abrupt change in scenery feels jarring. It’s like moving from a warzone to civilization in the blink of an eye, like waking up from a nightmare.
“I just can’t believe it,” Serena finally says softly, turning her head to look at the road in front of us.”
“What?” I’m starting to feel twinges of pain as my adrenaline starts to fade, letting my wounds take their toll, but I’m not about to show pain right now.
“That we made it out of there,” says Serena. “I know this is like, a regular Saturday for you, Bruno, but it just doesn’t feel real.”
“Maybe a slightly more exciting Saturday than usual,” I say with a smile.
That earns a smile from her, but she shakes her head. “I don’t know why, but I just had this sense of things coming to an end when we got taken. Rafaela, if you hadn’t been there with me…”
“You’d have been alright, give yourself some credit,” Rafaela says with the kind of smile only a good friend can give. “You’re the one who cut that fucker’s legs out from under him.”
“You two handled yourselves well,” I say, and I mean it. “Not many people could keep it together under so much pressure.”
Serena is quiet for a moment, but there’s a soft smile on her face. After about a minute, she speaks again. “So, what happens now?”
“Now,” I say, getting off the highway, “I’m taking you to a safehouse. Both of you. You’re going to need to vanish for a few weeks while we figure out where things stand with the Abruzzi. Best case scenario, they’re willing to call a truce while the Don buries Lorenzo and mourns. I never bet on the best case, but this is a blow the Cleaners won’t recover from anytime soon.”
“No,” Rafaela says, raising her eyebrows. “It’s a hell of a blow to their spirits, too. You might have stopped a much longer, bloodier war here, Bruno.”
“No offense, Rafaela,” I say honestly, “but the only family I’m interested in protecting is my own, not the mobsters we work for.” I smile at Serena, who returns it, and Rafaela grins.
“You won’t hear me arguing. Maybe it’s time I convince Nico to move upstate and get out of all this noise.”
“So, where is this safehouse?” Serena asks.
“Just around this corner,” I say, pointing to the turn I’m about to make. “It’s a cozy little place we don’t use much, and…”
The thought trails off as I turn the corner. The apartment complex the safehouse is in has no less than four police cars parked out front, and nearly a dozen officers standing outside.
“Bruno, what-” Serena starts to say, and without a moment to lose, I try to take a turn down a side-road and slip out of sight before we’re noticed.
But the moment I do, a fifth car pulls up to block my path, coming to a screeching halt while the beat cops start running up to the car, guns coming out.