Chapter 8 - The Loyal Blood
Lorenzo risked a glance out the shattered window.
Dozens of men dressed in black leather jackets roared down the street on heavy cruisers.
It was Lorenzo’s loyal enforcers from the Brooklyn docks.
Vincenzo had sent an emergency beacon text before the phones jammed.
The tide of the battle turned in a matter of seconds.
The bikers flanked Matteo’s men, catching them completely off guard in a brutal crossfire.
Matteo’s mercenaries panicked, breaking their formation and running for the alleys.
"Push out!" Lorenzo yelled, kicking the remnants of the front door aside.
He and Vincenzo stepped onto the porch, firing into the retreating traitors.
The street became a warzone of shouting men and flashing muzzle fire.
Through the chaos, Lorenzo locked eyes with Matteo.
Matteo was hiding behind a shattered SUV, his face pale with terror.
He realized he had lost.
Matteo threw his rifle down and turned to run toward an empty sedan.
"Cover me!" Lorenzo barked at Vincenzo.
Lorenzo sprinted down the porch steps, ignoring the bullets whizzing past him.
He tackled Matteo onto the wet asphalt just as he reached the car door.
The two men crashed into the street, rolling through a massive puddle.
Matteo swung a desperate fist, catching Lorenzo in the jaw.
Lorenzo didn't even flinch.
He grabbed Matteo by the lapels of his expensive suit and hauled him up.
With a brutal right hook, Lorenzo shattered Matteo’s nose.
Matteo collapsed against the side of the car, spitting blood and teeth onto the ground.
The gunfire around them slowly died down as the loyalists secured the street.
Lorenzo stood over his former best friend, his breathing heavy and ragged.
May you like
He drew his pistol and aimed it squarely at Matteo's head.
"Why?" Lorenzo demanded, his voice devoid of any mercy.
