Chapter 5 - THE RESURRECTION OF A KING
For three seconds, nobody moved. The sheer impossibility of the moment shattered Vincent’s reality. Dominic sat up, throwing the duvet aside to reveal he was fully dressed.
"What the hell is this?" Vincent shrieked, stumbling backward. "Silas! Shoot him!"
Silas drew his weapon with lightning speed, leveling it at Dominic’s chest. But before his finger could tighten on the trigger, a suppressed gunshot coughed from the shadows of the alcove.
Pfft.
Silas roared in agony, his gun firing wildly into the ceiling as a 9mm hollow point shattered his kneecap. He collapsed heavily to the floor, dropping his weapon.
Vincent and Pendleton spun toward the alcove, utterly bewildered. Bridget stepped out of the shadows, her hands shaking violently, smoke curling from the barrel of the stolen pistol. She had never fired a gun in her life, but at ten feet, a target as big as Silas was hard to miss.
"Nobody moves," Bridget yelled, trying to make her voice sound deeper, more authoritative than the terrified squeak she felt rising in her throat.
Dominic didn't waste the distraction. He lunged from the bed, grabbing the heavy silver medical tray from Dr. Pendleton’s rolling cart. With a brutal, sweeping strike, he smashed the metal tray directly into the doctor’s face. Pendleton crumpled instantly, knocked unconscious before he hit the floor, the lethal syringe rolling harmlessly under the bed.
Vincent, realizing the tide had spectacularly turned, scrambled toward the doorway, desperate to escape.
"Matteo!" Dominic barked.
The heavy oak doors slammed shut right in Vincent’s face. Two massive men in dark suits stepped out from the hallway, pushing Vincent violently back into the bedroom. Matteo and Luca had arrived. They threw Vincent to the ground, kicking his legs out from under him and pinning his arms behind his back.
The room fell deadly silent, save for Silas’s groans of pain from the corner.
Dominic walked slowly toward his treacherous cousin. He didn't look weak anymore. He looked like the devil incarnate. He stopped in front of Vincent, looking down at the man who had slowly tortured him for months.
"Dom, please," Vincent begged, his arrogance completely evaporating into pathetic, snot-nosed terror. "I can explain. The Five Families—they were going to make a move! I had to do it to protect the syndicate! They thought you were weak!"
"They thought I was weak because you poisoned my coffee, you sniveling rat," Dominic said coldly. He crouched down, grabbing a fistful of Vincent’s expensive hair, jerking his head back. "You didn't want to protect the family. You wanted the crown. But you forgot one very important rule of this life, Vincent."
"What?" Vincent sobbed.
"If you strike at the king, you better make sure he's dead." Dominic released Vincent’s hair in disgust and stood up, looking at his loyal men. "Take him and Silas to the warehouse by the docks. Take the doctor, too. I’ll deal with them when I have my strength back."
"Yes, Boss," Matteo grunted, hauling a weeping Vincent to his feet. Luca dragged a bleeding Silas out the door, while a third man came in to haul Dr. Pendleton away by his ankles.
Within minutes, the room was empty again, save for the shattered glass of bourbon, the blood on the rug, and the two people left standing in the center of the chaos.
Dominic’s adrenaline faded, and he swayed slightly on his feet. Bridget rushed forward, dropping the gun and catching his arm, letting him lean his heavy weight against her shoulder.
"You did it," she breathed, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs. "You're alive."
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Dominic looked down at her, his chest heaving, a genuine, profound smile breaking across his hardened features. He reached up, his large, warm hand cupping her cheek, wiping away a streak of dust she hadn't realized was there.
"No, Bridget," he corrected softly, his voice thick with a gratitude he had never expressed to another living soul. "We did it."
