Chapter 5 - The Trial of BloodThe Final StandDesperate men do desperate things when their empires collapse.
Two days after the failed summit, Don Marcone launched a rogue, suicidal assault on the Torino estate. He hired twelve high-tier foreign mercenaries, bypassing the usual street channels, striking at 3:00 AM during a heavy downpour.
Explosions blew out the front security gates. Emergency alarms blared throughout the mansion, their red lights flashing violently against the marble walls.
BOOM!
Marcus woke up instantly. He didn't grab clothes; he grabbed his grandmother's wool coat, threw it over his shoulders, and ran straight down the hallway to Maya's bedroom.
"Marcus!" Maya cried out from under her blanket as her bedroom window shattered from gunfire outside.
Marcus swept her into his arms, carrying her out into the hallway just as Marco and three guards engaged the mercenaries on the main staircase. The house was a war zone—gunfire echoing off the high ceilings, smoke filling the corridors.
"Take her to the panic room in the basement!" Marco yelled over the deafening roar of automatic weapons, firing down the steps. "GO!"
Marcus sprinted down the back service stairs, holding Maya tight against his chest.
As they reached the heavy iron door of the basement panic room, a shadow stepped out from the darkness of the wine cellar.
It was Don Marcone himself, holding a chrome revolver, his face smeared with rain and soot. He had personally bypassed the main guards through an old service tunnel.
"End of the line, kid," Marcone growled, raising the gun directly at Marcus's head. "I lost everything tonight anyway. But I'm taking Torino's precious child—and his little pet—with me."
Marcus backed up against the panic room door, setting Maya behind his legs.
"Shoot me if you want," Marcus said, stepping forward, completely blocking Maya from view. His grandmother’s coat flared out around him like a dark shield. "But you're not touching her."
"You really are an idiot," Marcone sneered, pulling the trigger.
BANG!
Marcus didn't run. He threw his shoulders forward, taking the impact directly in his upper chest. The bullet tore through the thick fabric of his grandmother's wool coat, striking Marcus near the shoulder collarbone.
Marcus let out a ragged gasp, but the sheer momentum of his adrenaline kept him moving. Instead of falling, Marcus lunged forward with everything he had, tackling the old mobster to the hard stone floor!
THUD!
Marcone’s gun clattered across the concrete, rolling into the shadows. Marcus pinned Marcone’s arms down, bleeding heavily onto his grandmother's coat, using his entire weight to hold the dangerous man down until his vision began to blur at the edges.
"Marcus!" Maya screamed.
Footsteps thundered down the basement stairs.
Vincent Torino burst into the hallway, his face pale with horror, holding a smoking pistol. Seeing Marcone pinned on the floor, Vincent’s men immediately dragged the screaming old mobster away.
Vincent dropped to his knees beside Marcus, holding his hands over the bleeding wound on Marcus's shoulder.
"Hold on, son!" Vincent roared, his voice cracking with a raw, terrifying panic that no one had ever heard from him before. "DOCTOR! GET THE DOCTOR DOWN HERE NOW!"
Marcus lay on his back, looking up at the grand ceiling lights fading into white mist.
Little Maya was weeping, pressing her small hand over his, her tears falling onto his coat.
"Did I... did I keep her safe, Mr. Torino?" Marcus whispered, his breath shallow.
Vincent grasped Marcus's hand tightly, tears shining in the mob boss’s gray eyes.
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"You kept her safe, Marcus," Vincent whispered, his voice shaking. "You saved us all. Stay with me, son. Stay with me."
Marcus let his eyes close as the sound of sirens filled the night once more.
