Chapter 7 - The Bloodline’s End
Every gun in the warehouse snapped toward me.
Six mercenaries opened fire instantly. I dove behind a stack of wooden crates as a hail of bullets tore through the air, splinters flying everywhere like shrapnel.
I rolled out from behind the cover, firing three precise shots.
Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.
Three guards dropped instantly, hit in the throat, chest, and eye.
The remaining three mercenaries scrambled for cover behind a forklift, but I didn't give them the chance. I racked the shotgun I had retrieved from the car and pumped a round into the forklift’s hydraulic fuel line.
Sparks flew. The line ignited.
A massive explosion of fire and metal shattered the center of the warehouse, throwing the three guards across the concrete floor like ragdolls.
Smoke filled the room, thick, black, and smelling of burnt oil. Through the haze, I saw Marco scrambling backward toward the rear exit, his eyes wide with absolute panic.
“Marco!” I yelled, stepping through the flames like a demon rising from hell.
Marco turned, raising his pistol with trembling hands. “Julian, please! I had no choice! He was going to kill my family too!”
“You traded my trust for twenty percent of an empire built on my father’s grave,” I said, walking toward him, my gun raised. “You always had a choice.”
BANG.
I pulled the trigger once.
The bullet struck Marco straight in the chest. He stumbled backward, slammed against a metal shipping container, and slid down to the ground, leaving a streak of dark blood on the painted steel. He looked up at me, coughed once, and went still.
I stepped over his body and turned toward the center of the room.
Uncle Dominic hadn't run. He couldn't. He was standing near the chair where Dr. Evans’ wife and daughter were tied up, holding a revolver pressed tightly against the mother’s temple.
“Stay back, Julian!” Dominic screamed, his hands shaking, his refined mask completely shattered into frantic madness. “Stay back or I’ll blow her brains out!”
I stopped ten feet away from him. The fire behind me cast long, dancing shadows across the concrete floor.
“Put the gun down, Dominic,” I said softly. “It’s over.”
“It’s never over!” Dominic shrieked. “I built this family! I built this city! Your father was a weak fool who was going to hand everything over to the feds! I did what had to be done!”
“You killed your own brother,” I said, pulling the black USB drive from my pocket and holding it up so he could see it. “And you left the evidence in the hands of the Valentis. You were never a mastermind, Dominic. You were just a coward hiding behind other men’s guns.”
Dominic’s eyes fixed on the USB drive. “Give me that,” he rasped. “Give it to me, Julian, and we can split the empire! Fifty-fifty! You and me! The last of the Morellis!”
“There are no Morellis left,” I said. “Just me. And the ghost of the man you murdered.”
In a split second of frantic desperation, Dominic swung his revolver away from the woman’s head and pointed it straight at my chest.
I was faster.
My Kimber .45 barked twice.
The first bullet punched through Dominic’s shoulder, forcing him to drop his revolver. The second bullet caught him in the knee, dropping him to his hands and knees on the cold, wet concrete.
He screamed in agony, clutching his shattered leg, coughing up blood.
I walked over, picked up his dropped revolver, and shoved it into my belt. Then I untied Dr. Evans’ wife and daughter.
“Run,” I told them gently. “Go to the police. You’re safe now.”
They didn't hesitate. They ran out the side doors into the rain, leaving me alone in the burning warehouse with my father’s murderer.
I knelt down beside Dominic, grabbing him by the hair and forcing his head back so he had to look me in the eye.
“Please, Julian...” he sobbed, tears and blood mixing on his face. “We’re blood...”
“Blood doesn't make a family,” I whispered into his ear. “Loyalty does.”
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I raised the gun to his head.
BANG.
