Vinny "The Snake" Russo's POV
Blood's dripping down my best friend's face, a crimson mask painting his mug from a gash on his skull. Tony "The Hammer" Moretti slammed him into the wall like a ragdoll, that sick smirk curling his lips. He lets go, and Joey stumbles, barely keeping his feet under him. Three bullets got him good, one in the thigh, one in the chest, another in his side. Doc's voice haunts me, cold as ice: "Artery's shredded. He's a goner." Joey's limping, desperate, trying to bolt from that bastard. Fifty of Tony's goons swarm him like vultures.
I'm glued to my laptop screen, amber eyes burning holes through it. My fingers drum the glass desk, the only sound in my office, a low, pissed-off rhythm. Joey's gasping, each breath a fight. He attempted to stand upright but couldn't, his legs giving out. He hit the corridor with speed. My heart stings and chest tight, as if it is been squeezed.
Those animals are laying into him, hockey sticks, boots, fists. My blood's boiling, fists clenched so hard my knuckles are white. Joey wheezes my name, "Vinny," and then he's gone. Those bastards will pay. I'll make 'em beg for death, and it'll be slow. I swear it. Been 120 hours, seven minutes, and change since I last got my hands dirty with Tony's blood. That smug prick throws his big bash every 22nd, and tonight's the night. My heart's screaming to bury him, but my head's got a nastier plan. I want him broken first.
I hit pause on the footage. The screen flashes February 22, same date, one year later. That CCTV clip's from last year, the day they took Joey from me. I rake my fingers through my hair, leaning back in my chair, elbow propped on the armrest. My hand covers half my face, but I can still see the frozen image through my fingers.
I hunted down every thug in that slaughter. One by one, I made 'em scream. Folks call me a demon now, heartless. Maybe they're right.
Tony's been my punching bag plenty in the last year. Broke his bones, sent him to the ER more times than I can count. But today, February 22, it's time to collect the full debt with interest. He'll feel every ounce of pain Joey did. That day's a black stain on my soul. Joey was my brother, blood or not. Tony crossed a line, and I swore he'd be the last of his crew standing right before I end him.
Mikey, my right-hand man, spins his laptop toward me. "Tony's booked the fourth floor for his blowout. Five-story joint, rest of the floors are family parties."
I grit my teeth. "He's gonna party before I choke the life outta him." My phone pings. Text from Sal: We're en route. Tonight, Tony's done. I'm talking brutal, merciless, the kind of end he never saw coming. I stand, button my suit jacket, and growl, "Let's roll." My crew don't ask questions. If I told 'em to dive into a shark tank, they'd do it with a smile. That's the power of the Russo name.
In the garage, I unlock my black Bentley, slide in, and gun the engine. The car roars as I peel out, headed to settle this score. Tony started this war a year ago. I'm ending it tonight.
I pull up to the spot, tires screeching. In the rearview, Mikey's sedan and an SUV with my top guys roll in behind me. I step out onto the asphalt, eyes locked on the five-story building. Popping off my shades, I toss 'em onto the front seat and flick my keys to one of my boys. With a finger, I signal the crew, and we strut through the front doors like we own the place. Spoiler: I do.
The resort owner's waiting in the lobby, all smiles. "Evening, Mr. Russo."
"Morning," I shoot back, deadpan. "Clear the building. Fourth floor stays." The manager nods like his life depends on it probably does and scurries to the elevator.
I loosen my tie and take the head chair in the main office. My lawyer's already here, papers spread out. I bought this whole damn building last week, just for tonight. Mikey walks in, clocks the lawyer, and grins. "You bought it, didn't you?"
I flash him a crooked smirk. Mikey's my kid brother, my only family. Keeps me grounded when I'm one step from going full psycho.
My phone buzzes. Another text from Sal: We're in. My lips twitch into a half-smile. Tony's one move from checkmate. "Game over," I mutter, voice low but deadly. Sal's been playing double agent, cozying up to Tony's crew, feeding me every step.
We hit the elevator, me and my ten best shooters guys who can unload fifty rounds in a minute and not blink. The doors slide open, and we step onto the fourth floor. My crew's behind me, waiting for the word. Mikey's downstairs in the manager's office; I need my head clear, and he's too precious to risk.
The sight of Tony makes my blood sizzle. There he is, the bastard who killed Joey an engineer, a good guy who didn't deserve this world. Tony's goons are pointing guns at some cops, and the hall's a mess of screams and stomping feet as people scramble.
My hand twitches for my piece, fingers itching to end this. I'm the predator. He's the prey. Me and only me gets to finish him. Sal spots me, ditches Tony's crew, and slides over. Tony's still clueless I'm here. "He's planning to marry some dame, right here, right now," Sal whispers, nodding at a girl flanked by three cops.
I shift to get a better look. She's in a gold gown, hugging her curves like it was made for her. Wavy chestnut hair spills past her hips, and her hazel eyes are wide with fear but fierce. Damn, she's a knockout. My pulse kicks up a notch. "What's her deal?" I ask Sal, keeping my cool.
"Kidnapped," he says. "She was at one of the parties downstairs. One of Tony's guys laughed at her, and Tony capped him on the spot."
I let out a low chuckle. Bold move, Tony. I holster my gun and pull out my phone, fingers flying. With a nod, I signal my crew. In seconds, Tony's goons are down, blood pooling under 'em. I let Tony rabbit bullet's too quick for him. I want him to suffer, to bleed slow. The girl's staring at me, eyes locked on mine, no fear, just defiance. Nobody looks me in the eye like that. It's… hot. I stride over, grab her by the waist, and she feels soft, like silk under my hands. Her beauty's a punch to the gut.
I took her up from the floor before she could react, leaping her over the railing. Her scream was so loud that it could wake even the dead up. My guys are ready below, holding a jump sheet. We land, her under me, eyes squeezed shut. I take a second to drink in her face flawless, even scared. Then I'm up, heading for the office. My crew hauls her along, sitting her in a chair.
She's glaring, not saying a word. I can tell she ain't here for Tony's bullshit wedding. A plan's brewing in my head, one that'll screw Tony over and then some. "Sal," I say, voice calm but sharp. "Get the marriage papers ready."
Her eyes widen, and I smirk. Tony thought he'd play king tonight. But I'm about to steal his queen and burn his whole damn empire to the ground.