(VALENTINO'S POV)
The sound of the club feels distant. Like it's happening somewhere else entirely. I can hear people murmuring, phones still up, the low hum of the music that never really stopped—but all I can see is Raffaele standing here in front of me.
"Just put the gun down, Val," he says, stepping in front of the barrel, his tone infuriatingly calm. He gestures at the sea of men around us, all armed and ready. "You're clearly outnumbered. So unless you want a repeat of what happened back at the warehouse, I suggest you lower your gun. Gosh, be civil for once."
I hold his gaze, trying to picture how it'd feel to just pull the trigger and watch him drop. My finger twitches against the trigger. Just one squeeze and this ends.
One fucking squeeze.
I can hear Bruno shifting behind me, can almost feel the tension radiating off Leo. My pulse is so loud in my ears it almost drowns everything else out. It'd be easy. Too damn easy.
