Chapter 10 - THE FINAL RECKONING
The abandoned steel mill was a rusted cathedral of iron and shadows. The rain had returned, slicking the metal catwalks and masking the sound of my approach. I arrived exactly at midnight, carrying a duffel bag stuffed with useless paper, and a specialized tactical vest beneath my trench coat.
Matteo stood on a high, central platform, holding Sophia by the collar. He had a heavy revolver pressed to her temple.
"Where is the baby?" Matteo yelled down as I stepped into the dim light of the factory floor.
"Safe. Where you will never touch him," I replied, my voice echoing off the cavernous walls. "Let the girl go, Matteo. It's over."
"You arrogant bastard!" he shrieked, firing a warning shot into the ceiling. "You always had everything! Father loved you more! You got the empire! I had to settle for scraps! I just wanted what was mine!"
"You wanted what you didn't earn," I corrected him, slowly walking up the metal stairs. My eyes never left his. "You were always a coward. Hiding behind fake deaths, hiding behind doctors, and now, hiding behind a little girl."
Matteo’s hand shook. His finger twitched on the trigger. He was breaking.
"Throw down your weapon!" Matteo demanded.
I slowly pulled my handgun from my holster and tossed it aside. It clattered against the grating. Matteo smiled, a twisted grin of triumph. He shoved Sophia aside. She scrambled down the stairs, running into the darkness.
Matteo aimed his revolver directly at my chest. "Goodbye, brother."
He fired. Two deafening shots struck me in the chest. I staggered backward, falling onto the metal grating.
Matteo laughed, a manic, breathless sound. He walked over to me, kicking the duffel bag. "You were always too soft, Lorenzo."
He leaned over to inspect my body.
That was his fatal mistake. The Kevlar plating beneath my coat had stopped the rounds. As Matteo leaned in, I surged upward, grabbing his wrist with a vise-like grip. I twisted his arm, forcing the revolver out of his hand.
Panic flooded his eyes as he realized I was unhurt. He scrambled backward, but I was faster. I lunged, tackling him against the railing of the catwalk. We struggled, exchanging brutal, heavy blows. Matteo was desperate, fighting with the wild strength of a dying animal. But I was fighting for my son.
I grabbed him by the throat, hoisting him over the edge of the railing. Below us, a thirty-foot drop into a pit of rusted iron gears.
"Lorenzo, please! We're blood!" he gasped, clawing at my hands.
"You lost the right to that word the moment you put my son in a trash bag," I whispered coldly.
May you like
I let go.
Matteo's scream echoed through the steel mill, silenced abruptly by a sickening crunch at the bottom of the pit. I didn't look down. I turned around, picked up my coat, and walked down the stairs to find Sophia.
