Chapter 5 - The Crippled Lion's Roar
Elena fell to her knees, dry sobbing, her hands clutching her hair. "No, no, no... please God, no. Not Leo. Not my baby."
Marco tried to stand, his face pale, but his bandaged leg collapsed under him, sending him crashing against a stainless steel table. "Damn it! I can't walk, boss. I can't cover you."
Matteo closed the laptop. The calm, calculated look on his face had vanished, replaced by an expression of pure, unadulterated rage. The men who betrayed him had broken the code. They had dragged an innocent child into a war of greed.
"Elena," Matteo said, his voice echoing with absolute authority. "Look at me."
Elena raised her tear-stained face, looking at the man in the wheelchair.
"I am going to get your son back," Matteo said, his words hitting like iron weights. "Arthur died because of my blind spots. I will not let his son die because of my weakness. Stand up. We have work to do."
"What can we do?" she cried. "They have guns! You can't even—"
"I don't need to stand to kill a rat," Matteo interrupted. He looked at Marco. "Marco, where is the emergency briefcase from the van?"
"In the compartment under the floorboards, boss. High-explosive flashbangs and two fully loaded Uzis."
"Get them," Matteo ordered. He turned back to Elena. "Luca thinks he’s playing a game of chess where I am a stationary king. He forgets that a king can still command the board. We are going to give him exactly what he asked for. But it will be the last thing he ever sees."
Ten minutes later, the front door of Vance’s Sweet Treats chimed as it opened.
Elena stepped out into the cold night air, her hands raised. Behind her, she rolled Matteo out in his wheelchair. He sat quietly, a heavy wool blanket draped over his lap, concealing his legs and everything beneath them. His hands were resting visibly on the armrests.
Across the street, Luca stepped forward from the shadow of the sedan, keeping Leo firmly in his grasp, a silver pistol pressed against the boy’s temple. Silvio, his shoulder bandaged and his face pale with fury, stood right beside him with two other armed thugs.
"Beautiful," Luca mocked, spreading his arms. "The great Don Moretti, brought low by a woman pushing his stroller. How the mighty have fallen."
"Let the boy go, Luca," Matteo said, his voice carrying perfectly across the empty street. "You have me. You have the drive. It’s over."
"Oh, it’s over when I say it’s over, old friend," Luca sneered. "Silvio, go get the drive from the woman. And make sure Matteo doesn't have any surprises under that blanket."
Silvio stepped forward, an evil grin splitting his face as he approached Elena. He reached into his jacket, pulling out a pair of handcuffs. "I've been waiting for this for four months, Matteo."
As Silvio reached for Elena, Matteo looked Luca dead in the eye.
"You always were an amateur, Luca," Matteo said softly. "You forgot the first rule of the empire: never let your enemy choose the battlefield."
Matteo didn't move his hands from the armrests. Instead, he simply tapped his right heel against a hidden pressure plate built into the footrest of his custom wheelchair—a modification he had secretly installed weeks ago.
Click.
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The heavy industrial baking timers Elena had set inside the shop didn't sound an alarm. Instead, they triggered the wireless receiver attached to the flashbangs Marco had planted in the bakery’s trash bins right by the curb.
A blinding flash of white light and a deafening roar shattered the night.
