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HE WAS BOUND TO A WHEELCHAIR FOR 12 YEARS BY A DEADLY LIE. THEN HIS DAUGHTER TOUCHED HIS KNEE AND UNLOCKED A MAFIA WAR! / Chapter 8 / 20

Chapter 8 - THE MIRACLE ON THE MARBLE FLOOR

Marcus stepped back, his face twisting into a hideous mask of shock and fury. "Impossible! Thorne swore the nerve damage was irreversible!"

"Thorne is currently bleeding in my basement, Marcus," Luca said calmly, walking down the center aisle of the ballroom. Each step sounded like a death knell on the hard floor. "Just like you will be in five minutes."

"Kill him!" Marcus screamed to his enforcers. "Shoot him now!"

Before the mercenaries could raise their weapons, the tall stained-glass windows along the ballroom wall shattered inward. Arthur and a squad of elite, loyal veterans swung down on tactical ropes, opening fire on Marcus’s men.

The ballroom erupted into violent crossfire. Luca moved with terrifying speed, diving behind a solid marble pillar. He leaned out, firing three precise shots that dropped the guards holding Elena.

Elena scrambled across the floor, reaching Maya and pulling her close, shielding the little girl with her body.

Marcus, realizing the tide had turned, grabbed a briefcase from the table and sprinted toward the private exit behind the stage. Luca saw him.

"Arthur! Clear the room!" Luca ordered, sprinting after Marcus.

Luca pursued his former right-hand man through the narrow service corridors of the estate, emerging out onto the rain-drenched grass of the baseball diamond. The storm was raging, lightning illuminating the night sky in flashes of blinding white.

Marcus slipped in the mud near home plate, dropping his briefcase. He scrambled to his feet, pulling a snub-nosed revolver from his jacket, but Luca slammed into him like a freight train.

The two men tumbled into the mud. Marcus swung wildly, catching Luca across the jaw with the heavy handle of his gun. Luca tasted blood, but he locked his arms around Marcus’s throat, driving his shoulder down. They fought savagely in the pouring rain, reliving twelve years of stolen life in a brutal wrestling match on the field Luca had built for a dream he thought was lost.

With a final, desperate surge of strength, Luca pinned Marcus to the dirt, driving his knee into Marcus’s chest and pointing his Colt .45 directly between Marcus’s eyes.

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"Give me one reason not to put a bullet through your head right now," Luca growled, his breath coming in ragged bursts.

Marcus spit blood, laughing hysterically through the rain. "Go ahead, Luca! Shoot me! But you still don't get it, do you? I didn't order the poison twelve years ago! I was just the middleman!"

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