by Serena Light
"Right, sir," He nodded. "When should we put this plan into motion?"
"We leave at sunrise,"
At sunrise, Salvatore took a shower to freshen up and changed into black cargo pants with a black hood. He had just been wriggling his fingers into the black tactical gloves when his bedroom door opened and Piero came rushing in, also dressed in full black attire.
"Here you are," He exhaled. "Everyone has left, they thought you went ahead of them. Come on! Let's go,"
Nodding, the Mafia Boss laced up his combat boots and grabbed his gun, placing a kiss on the children's forehead before he exited his bedroom, finding his family standing before him.
Rosalie came and hugged him tightly.
"Don't you dare die on me," She choked back the tears. "Don't you leave me before I leave you,"
Hugging her back, Salvatore nodded to her words, not trusting his voice not to crack if he spoke.
"I love you," Rosalie sniffled into his chest.
"Love you, too, ma," He managed out before pulling away from his mother.
Arcangelo hugged him, informing him how proud he is of Salvatore before Arsenio and Angelica wished him all the best with an embrace.
"Let's go," Piero nodded as they stepped down, the entire estate silent.
Getting behind the wheel of his Lamborghini, the other man sat down beside him before they drove to the warehouse.
It was long and silent. Salvatore was impatient to get there, and as he drove on the empty stretch of road which brightened bit by bit, he had to wonder, where were the cars with his men? They couldn't have had more than a ten minutes head start on them and the Lamborghini would have easily caught up, yet, he didn't see a single car, much less an SUV in sight.
Stopping at the edge of the forest, the Mafia Boss stepped out with Piero close behind him. Making their way into the forest, they maneuvered themselves until they were beneath the tree where his snipers would be stationed with a clear view of the warehouse; his confusion only heightening to see the four men still patrolling the grounds.
"What the-" He began to say before a sharp pain erupted at the base of his head, the impact leaving him disoriented as he fell to his knee, clutching at the abused area and reaching for his gun.
"I had to," Piero's remorseful voice spoke up, noticing his boss reaching for his gun as he slammed the butt of his own into Salvatore's head, sending him sprawling across the forest floor as his vision turned black.
The last thought which occurred to him being that of how beautiful the sunrise looked from between the trees.
Chapter XLVII: Fragmented
A groan escaped Salvatore as he was regaining consciousness and felt himself being dragged against the moss-covered forest floor before the texture changed from the rugged natural terrain to smooth marble. His head lolled from side to side as the stench of death attacked his senses, feeling someone pat him down before taking out all the weapons that he had; his phone included.
With his skull pounding, he tried to open his heavy eyelids suppressing shiver when a warm sensation tickling down his nape and down his back.
Suddenly he was dropped to the floor without warning and his head hit the marble floor with a grotesque crack that had the Mafia Boss groan in pain, clutched at his skull. A pained moan escaped Salvatore as he rolled onto his stomach, sitting up to be kneeling on the floor, a hand cradling the abused area and slowly cracking open his eyes, looking around at the desolate warehouse where guards stood sentries.
They were either six men or twelve, but Salvatore couldn't be sure with the way his vision doubled and blurred before him.
Bracing the floor beneath him to keep from falling, he blinked away the bleariness, looking around him before his breath hitched in his throat, his mouth running dry and his vision sobering.
Before him, in a chair sat none other than his wife.
Her head falling forward and an arm lying limply to her side with the other in her lap. She wasn't tied to the chair and the disproportionate weight of her body caused her to lean more to one side.
"Nicole," Salvatore found himself chocking out, struggling to get to his feet before nearly falling back to his knees with vertigo that hit him. Gasping, he stumbled forward, tripping over his own feet before falling in front of his wife and placed a hand over her own, feeling how cold she felt and how her pink color had gone grey. "Hey, Nicole," He willed the tears away and tried his hardest to keep his voice from cracking before he took hold of her face into his hand, tilting her head back.
He nearly jumped back.
Because the woman before him looked nothing like his wife.
Her soft hazel hair had gone brittle, with her skin an ashen grey. Her green eyes shone dimly and sunk into her face, much like how her cheeks were hollow and her lips white and chapped. Salvatore could see her entire bone structure, she had grown frail and could hardly open her eyes more than a crack, much less speak or lift her hand. He would have thought she was a corpse if she hadn't let out a ragged breath at the sight of him.
"Hey, baby," His voice cracked as he gave her a gentle smile. "I'm here now, okay? You'll be fine. We'll get you out of here, and take you to the hospital and the doctors will patch you right up. And once you're well enough, we'll go home," Salvatore stroked away her brittle hair, watching how strands of it came off in his hands.
She didn't say anything or do anything besides let out a ragged breath and slowly blink her eyes. Salvatore watching how they fell to a close, a deep sense of unease settling in his stomach as he lightly shook her.
"Nicole?" He called out, wanting her to open her eyes again, so he knows that she was fine, and not dead. He needed her to open her eyes. "Nicole!"
"Ah! The reunion of two lovers," A voice behind him spoke in glee, forcing Salvatore to turn around and find Jayson standing by the wall, watching the two with a grim-faced Piero beside him. "It touched my heart,"
The Italian didn't say anything and ignored the man behind him as he turned back to his wife, caressing her dry and hollow cheek before swallowing thickly at how weak she had gotten. A hand on his shoulder tried to turn him around, but Salvatore brought back his fist and slammed it straight into the man's nose, relishing in the crunch that resounded upon the impact, smirking as the traitor clutched at his broken nose.
Two more of Jayson's men stepped forward, grabbing hold of either of his arms as the Mafia Boss struggled against them, cursing and trying to pull away but fell silent when the sudden misbalance had Nicole's unconscious figure fall off the chair and into the heap on the floor beside him.
"Nicole!" He cried out in desperation, trying to get to her as two more men came and restrained him. "Let her go!" Salvatore demanded from Jayson, the man clenching his jaw and glaring back at him.
"You are in no positions to make demands, Regnante!" He bellowed in his anger at being talked back to. "And since you've made me angry, I have a proposition for you," The American grinned before taking out one of Salvatore's black engraved semi-automatic pistol, aiming it first at him and then Nicole before holding it up to admire the gold engravings.
"It's very simple," Jayson spoke slowly. "Your life for Nicole's,"
"What?" The Italian barked at him, the American giving him a glare before recomposing himself.
"Either you die and Nicole lives. Or, she dies and you live,"
Salvatore pulled away from the men, this time they released him as he kneeled on the floor, curling and uncurling his fingers to try and think of a way to get out of this with both of them alive. Glancing at Nicole's unconscious figure before looking towards his phone at Jayson's feet. If he could just reach that, his team would know where he is.
"Na-uh." The man before him clicked his tongue, Salvatore watching as a guard stepped toward Nicole's unconscious – possibly dying – body and aimed at her head as his heart sunk in his chest. "Try something funny, Loverboy, and you both will be dead."
"It simple." He stated again. "Either you die and Nicole lives. Or Nicole die
s and you live. But I'm afraid I can't let both of you live. One of you must die..."
With a furious growl, Salvatore lunged at the man, sending both of them toppling to the ground as he had his fingers wrapped around his neck, squeezing as he tried to push him off; two of his men attempted the same thing. A sudden gunshot going off, had Salvatore turn towards Nicole in panic, distracting him enough to have him pushed to the ground as the American coughed and gagged, scurrying away from him as he stayed kneeling on the ground, glaring at Piero who had fired the shot into the air, and his gun now pointed towards him.
"Stop it!" He growled in anger, but his eyes desperate. "They have Eva. You can't kill him."
"Now, now, Piero." The American wheezed in attempts to regain his composure after such an attack. "He has to kill himself. You know, suicide."
Gritting his teeth, the Italian turned his glare towards the traitor again as he not so inconspicuously took a step back.
"Now, Salvatore." He coughed as he held out his engraved gun. "You have five minutes before I pull the trigger on you myself." Just as those words left his mouth, he used his other hand to hold a gun pointed at his head, Piero's aim set on his boss as well.
Silently looking around himself, he gave one last glance to Nicole's unconscious body before turning back to the man before him. Grasping the weapon offered to him, Salvatore felt the familiar weight of his most frequently used gun, realizing that this would the last of his adventures. This is the last time he'd ever see Nicole, the last time he'd get to feel the wind blow through his hair and the last time he'd have seen his family. Salvatore would never have kids of his own. He would never have the pleasure of seeing his nieces and nephew grow to be adults.
The purest form of life's luxuries...gone. Taken.
"Put the gun in your mouth," Jayson demanded and he realized that he wanted to blow his own brain.
The exact same brain that never cracked under pressure and got the Mafia Boss out of numerous sticky situations. But not this one.
No...
This.
This is the end of the line.
Putting the gun into his mouth, Salvatore found himself closing eyes and watched his entire life flash before his eyes.
Taking his last breath on this Earth, his finger coiled around the trigger. Recalling all those years of training.
Inhale...
Exhale...
And pull the trigger...
Just as his finger twitched to blow his own brains, a window chattered as a small object got thrown inside, distracting everyone long enough for Salvatore to jump towards Nicole and cover her while Piero took shelter just as the stun grenade went off. A cacophony of groans and grunts escaped everyone as Piero shot the man who had been pointing his weapon at Nicole, and for Salvatore to take out his gun and aim at Jayson, both of them standing with weapons pointed to one another while snipers took care of the men stationed around the room, and the ones the snipers couldn't get, were taken care of by the team that swarmed the interior.
The sound of bullets flying ricocheting around them with men dying or lying dying, more of Jayson's men infiltrating from the hatch in the floor.
"End of the line, Jayson," Salvatore found himself saying as the American could see he was losing this war. "Put down your gun,"
"Not yet," He shook his head and pulled the trigger just as the Mafia Boss did as well, watching how his bullet penetrated his skull and had him fall back weightlessly, Salvatore standing in his spot with a smoking barrel as he tried to inhale deeply, his breath stuttering in his throat as the pain blossomed from his chest.
The gun clattered out of his hand and he fell down to his knee, wheezing and gasping for breath, his instincts telling him to reach for his inhaler, but he knew that even that wouldn't help.
With a trembling hand, he placed it against his chest, feeling the blood soak through his clothes and onto his palm, the pain shooting through his spine like a fresh wave as he fell back.
Feeling the irregular beat of his heart trying to function with the bullet lodged in it.
With the last bit of strength he could muster, he looked towards the unconscious form of his wife, and with trembling fingers, reached out for her. Their fingertips having hardly grazed each other when a sudden coughing fit had Salvatore's mouth filling with blood, the pungent metallic taste infiltrating his taste buds before the last bit of energy left him.
His blank gaze on his wife and their cold fingers hardly touching. The taste of blood dancing on his tongue and a dance of bullets going on around him.
Chapter XLVIII: Breaking of Hearts
The light overhead is what awoke Nicole, that and the incomprehensible jumble of words swarming around her. Groaning, she blinked open her eyes, shielding them from the harshness of the light, and was surprised to find something tugging at the back of her palm. Turning her hand, she found I.V drips and various wires connecting her to different machines, an oxygen mask over her mouth and what looked like a dialysis machine purifying her blood through her left arm.
Looking towards the large machine to her left, she blinked her eyes, seeing her father seated and hunched over a book, murmuring the words out loud.
Straining to listen, she recognized the words, her eyebrows knitting in confusion before noticing the rosary in his hands.
"Since have you taken to reciting Holy Scripture?" Nicole asked in a hollow voice, suddenly realizing how parched she felt.
"Christ!" Her father jumped up at her sudden voice, having been too lost in the Bible to notice her awakening. "Nicole," He exhaled before putting the book away, taking hold of her face into his hands and redirecting her gaze to him.
Nicole grew even more bewildered to see the tears stream down her father's cheeks with the smile on his face.
"What's wrong?" She inquired with knitted eyebrows as he chuckled breathlessly and shook his head.
"I thought I'd lost you," He sniffled, placing a kiss on her forehead and rubbing his thumb over her cheek. "The color is returning back, that's good, meaning the medicine is working."
"What medicine?"
"Honey, when they brought you in, you were grey and bone-thin, we could see your skeleton." Renzo sat at the edge of the bed, holding her hand in his own. "They diagnosed you with severe heavy metal poisoning,"
"Heavy metal poisoning?"
"Yeah, they thought about chelation, but it wasn't very reliable so we stuck to diuretics and hemodialysis," Her father gestured to the machine attached to her arm, a sudden laugh bubbling through him as he kissed Nicole's hand. "I was so scared that I had lost you, too,"
"I'm fine, daddy," Nicole assured with a weak smile. "I'm just tired,"
"I'm not surprised, you've been out for eight days,"
"What?" She pulled away from him. "I've been out for over a week?"
"Yeah," Renzo nodded. "Why else do you think I was so terrified?"
"I-I don't understand," Nicole chuckled uneasily. "What, what happened? I don't even remember getting here,"
"Oh,"
"You're awake," A voice spoke up, forcing Nicole to look up and stare back at the face of her mother-in-law.
She stared in disbelief at the woman before her, her beautiful hair had begun turning grey and her eyes dull and she looked older than Nicole had ever seen her.
"Mama?" She asked uncertainly, watching the woman take the seat her father vacated. "What-what happened?"
"So much," Rosalie sighed dejectedly, blankly staring at the edge of the blanket falling off the bed. "So much has happened in these past eight days,"
"Where is everyone? Where is Dad, and Arsenio and Angelica, the girls, the twins? Marco, Serafina-?" Nicole breathed out in panic, her heart sinking in her chest as her throat began to close to see the tears brimming in Rosalie's eyes. Her breath stuttering. "Mama, where is Salvatore?" She watched her mother-in-law inhale sharply, not meeting her gaze and bit on her lower lip from crying out.
"Mama, where is Salvatore, please tell, me" She turned
her gaze from Rosalie to her father, begging both of them to tell her, the tears of fear blurring her vision and causing her to choke on her words. "Where is my husband? I want to see my husband, please, tell me what happened,"
"Per favore, Dio," Rosalie put a pale and trembling hand to her lips, looking at the hand that was placed on her shoulder before squeezing it.
Looking up at the man that just entered, Nicole blinked away the tears to see her father-in-law standing before her with a somber and grim expression, hate and anger reflected in his eyes and his hair peppering. A part of her wanted to cower away, feeling like the hate and anger was directed at her, but she just sniffled when he gave her a nod in greeting.
"Renzo, could you kindly leave us for a while?" Arcangelo's voice sounded detached and his eyes even duller.
Nodding, her father stood from his place and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.
One could see from the glass doors how Nicole's expression morphed from panic to confusion then into shock. A hand placed to her mouth with tears streaming down her face. She shook her head in desperation, the tears blurring her vision as she clutched at the front of her gown. Her shaking grew worse and her voice rose, trembling on the bed with tears flowing like a never-ending waterfall. Arcangelo hugged her close, allowing her to sob into his shoulder as she clutched on in desperation, begging for him to be lying.
When Nicole had calmed down and the doctors had removed her from the machine, patching her up and going through the standard check-up, she asked the nurse to be taken outside.
"You just woke up, and you're quite weak, so you can't walk as of yet," The nurse informed.
"Then get me a wheelchair," Nicole stated emotionlessly, both Arcangelo and Rosalie looking at one another.