Chapter 18 - The Night the City Chose Sides
"Teresa, don't," I shouted.
She fired.
The bullet passed Stefano's shoulder and struck the guard behind him, the man who had raised his weapon toward Claire.
"I wasn't aiming at him," Teresa snapped.
For half a second, everyone recalculated.
That was enough.
Claire stomped Vincent's foot and drove her elbow backward. He cursed and loosened his grip. I grabbed a brass lamp and swung it into his wrist. His gun hit the carpet.
Stefano tackled Salvatore behind the desk.
The library erupted.
Marco's men entered from the hall at the same moment federal agents broke through the front of the house. No one knew who should lower a weapon first.
"Federal agents! Drop your guns!"
"Moretti men, down!" Stefano shouted from the floor.
His men obeyed.
That, more than anything, changed the room.
Salvatore's did not.
Two tried to push toward the side door. Agents took them down. Vincent crawled for his gun. Claire kicked it under a sofa.
"Try budgeting," she told him.
I would remember that line forever.
Salvatore had a knife.
He pressed it against Stefano's side where the earlier bullet wound had been stitched.
"You could have had everything," he hissed.
Stefano looked at him with a sadness deeper than anger.
"That was the problem."
He twisted, trapped Salvatore's wrist, and forced the knife away.
An agent pulled them apart.
For the first time in decades, Salvatore Moretti was handcuffed.
Vincent was next.
Teresa lowered her gun and began to cry.
Outside, the property blazed with blue and red lights. News helicopters were already circling. Somewhere, people who had built careers on silence were calling lawyers.
An agent took my statement on the front steps.
Claire sat wrapped in another blanket. She had developed an unfortunate habit of acquiring emergency blankets around organized crime.
Stefano stood several feet away while agents questioned him.
He was not under arrest, but he was not free to leave either.
That frightened me more than I expected.
When the agent finally stepped away, I walked to him.
"What happens now?"
"I answer questions. Many questions."
"About your businesses?"
"Yes."
"About crimes?"
He met my eyes.
"Yes."
I appreciated that he did not decorate the truth.
"Could you go to prison?"
"Possibly."
My chest hurt.
He lifted one hand but stopped before touching my face.
"Nora, I will not ask you to wait for me."
"Good."
Something flickered in his expression.
I stepped closer.
"Because I have spent enough of my life waiting for people who chose not to show up. You want a chair at my table, Stefano? Earn it. Wherever you are."
Then I kissed him once beneath the flashing lights.
Behind us, Claire said, "I knew this birthday was going badly, but this is excessive."
May you like
I laughed against his mouth.
For the first time all night, the sound did not feel borrowed.
