The click of the deadbolt echoed through the silent diner like a gunshot. The quiet man did not look at the drunk, nor did he look at the glass crunching beneath his heavy leather boots. He reached up, pulled down the heavy vinyl blinds, and turned around slowly.

Lucian lay on the floor, gasping for air, thick crimson blood pooling rapidly beneath his dark vest. He reached up, his gloved fingers weakly clutching Mara’s hand.

"Finish... it..." Lucian coughed out, his eyes struggling to stay focused. "Take... your family back..."

Nikolai Volkov laughed, stepping over Lucian’s fallen body, re-cocking his heavy revolver. "Touchy feely bullshit. Now it's your turn, girl."

Something inside Mara snapped. The shy, gentle waitress who flinched at raised voices died right then and there on that blood-soaked velvet carpet.

In one blinding motion, Mara dropped to her knees, grabbed Lucian’s fallen silver pistol from the floor, rolled onto her back, and fired four consecutive rounds directly up into Nikolai's chest and head.

Nikolai’s massive body frozen in shock before crashing backward through a heavy glass display case, dead before he hit the ground.

The remaining Russian mercenaries, seeing their leader dead and the terror in Mara's eyes, began backing away, dropping their weapons in surrender.

Mara stood up slowly, wiping blood from her cheek. She didn't look at the mercenaries. She looked at Victor, who was cornered against the high vault door at the back of the VIP lounge, blubbering like a coward.

She walked toward him, the heavy boots of her past forgotten, her heels clicking against the marble with lethal precision.

"Valeria... please!" Victor begged, dropping to his knees, clutching his hands together. "I'm your family! Your own blood! It was Nikolai! He made me do it! He forced me to orchestrate the hit on your father!"

Mara stood over her uncle, pointing the cold barrel of the silver pistol straight between his eyes.

"You took my childhood," Mara said softly, her voice ice-cold. "You forced me to live like a ghost in the dark. You destroyed everything I loved."

"I'm sorry! I'll give you everything! The money, the family, the empire!" Victor sobbed.

"I don't want your empire, Uncle," Mara whispered. "I'm just delivering my father's message."

BANG.

Victor fell limp against the vault floor.

Mara stood in the silent ballroom, surrounded by fallen enemies and terrified mob captains who immediately dropped to their knees in respect and submission to the new Don.

She turned back frantically toward Lucian, dropping her weapon and running to his side. "Lucian! Stay with me! Please, open your eyes!"

She pressed her hands firmly against his chest wound, tears streaming down her face, staining her crimson dress.

Lucian opened his eyes slowly, a faint, weak smile touching his lips. "You... you were magnificent, Valeria..."

"Don't talk! The paramedics are coming!" she sobbed.

Lucian reached up, his hand trembling as he pressed against his own chest pocket, pulling out a heavy Kevlar bulletproof plate that had stopped the bullet from penetrating his heart—though the force had fractured his ribs and knocked the breath from his lungs.