Chapter 9 - The Final Stand"Drop it, Vance!" Salvatore screamed over the roar of distant sirens.
Nick froze. He slowly lowered his weapon, letting it clatter against the marble floor, and raised his hands.
Inside the panic room, Jen screamed a silent, agonizing cry against the reinforced glass. No. No, please God, no.
"You thought you could outsmart my father's legacy?" Salvatore sneered, stepping closer, his finger twitching on the trigger. "You thought you could run New York while keeping your little veterinary girlfriend safe in Brooklyn? I'm going to kill you, Vance. And then I'm going to send the dog back to her in pieces."
Salvatore’s finger tightened on the trigger.
Click.
The gun jammed.
In that split-second eternity, Nick didn't hesitate. He pivoted with vicious, explosive force, driving his elbow directly into Salvatore’s jaw with a sickening crunch of bone. As the mob boss stumbled backward, Jerry materialized from the shadows like a avenging angel, sweeping Salvatore's legs out from under him and driving the butt of his pistol into the man's temple.
Salvatore hit the marble floor and didn't move.
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The gunfire in the rest of the estate sputtered out as Morenti's remaining men realized their leader was down and the perimeter was completely surrounded by flashing sirens—real ones this time, federal and state police converging on the estate from every angle.
Silence descended on the grand hall, broken only by the crackle of a burning drapery and the heavy, ragged breathing of men who had just survived a war.
