Echo by Sybil Bartel EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
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- Authors: Sybil Bartel
- Language: English
- Genre: Romance in Uniform eBooks
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Erico
Palermo, Sicily
Sighting, I exhaled.
Then I pulled the trigger.
A second later, my round hit the stronzo, the fucker’s head exploded,
and bystanders in the crowd across the piazza screamed as they dispersed.
Quickly unscrewing the stock and folding the bipod, I broke down my
TAC-50 as my cell vibrated. Stowing the sniper rifle in my bag and zipping
it shut before shouldering it, I answered Giancarlo’s call. “What?”
“Is it done?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you do it how I asked?”
My oldest brother was an asshole. He was also the Don of our famiglia.
I was a lot of things, none of them good, but a walking death wish wasn’t
one of them. If Giancarlo told me to pull the trigger, I fucking did it. Not
that I respected him or his methods, but it was kill or be killed in this life.
“Don’t I always?”
“You need to learn some respect,” Giancarlo warned.
“You need to earn some,” I shot back, descending the stairs.
“I am Don Mantovani. I fucking have it.”
No, he didn’t. He had a reputation. A violent one thanks to me. “Fear
isn’t respect.”
“‘It is better to be feared than to be loved,’” he spewed, citing the quote
our father had drilled into us.
Ignoring his bullshit, I quickly glanced around a corner, checking the
hallway on the first floor of the residential building. Empty. “You never
bother me when I’m on a job.” The arrogant prick demanded I call him and
report in once my hits were executed. “What do you want?” Leaving the
stairwell, I headed to the alley behind the building.
“Get back to the estate. You’re coming to a dinner with me tonight.”
“Not happening.” I was the trigger. “I don’t do bullshit dinners.” I didn’t
show my face anywhere I didn’t need to.
“You are not a guest. You’re reinforcement. Dinner is at eight, but we
need to leave at seven. You’re driving.”
Scanning the alley and the street beyond, I tossed my bag into the back
of my Mercedes AMG G63 and got behind the wheel. Glancing at my
watch, I turned the engine over. “Won’t make it. That’s in less than a half
hour. Get Ademaro to drive you or, better yet, Caio. That asshole lives to
drive.”
“That stronzo is your brother, and Caio drives like he is on the racetrack
no matter the circumstance. I’m not stupid enough to get into any vehicle
with him behind the wheel. Ademaro is attending the dinner with me. I need
you there.”
Translation, he needed someone intimidating and willing to pull the
trigger, and he didn’t want this leaking beyond immediate famiglia. “What
kind of dinner is this?” I pulled onto the busy city streets of Palermo.
“The business kind.”
Business my ass. “You said extortion wrong.”
“I am Don Mantovani,” he spit out, as if I needed a reminder of who the
fuck my brother was.
“Say no more,” I deadpanned.
His anger hitting as fast as his temper, he brought up the one thing he
thought he could hold over my head. “If you don’t like your last name, then
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