Chapter 9 - The Father's Wrath
Rocco didn't hesitate for a microsecond after breaking his bonds.
He lunged forward, grabbing Luca's discarded pistol from the metal bench.
He fired twice, putting a bullet into the knees of the two guards holding Victoria and Noah.
The men collapsed, screaming in agony as Victoria snatched Noah into her protective arms.
Luca spun around, raising his sniper rifle, but the enclosed space of the van made it useless.
Rocco tackled his brother, driving them both out the back doors and onto the hard tarmac.
They rolled violently, exchanging brutal, bare-knuckle punches fueled by years of resentment.
Marcus saw his chance to escape and scrambled out of the van, running desperately toward the jet.
Leo woke up, kicked the doors wide open, and shot Marcus in the leg with a dropped pistol.
Marcus fell face-first onto the runway, his treacherous escape finally brought to an end.
Rocco pinned Luca to the ground, raining down heavy blows that cracked his brother's jaw.
"You don't touch my son!" Rocco roared, his fists painted with his brother's blood.
Luca laughed maliciously, spitting blood onto the concrete as he reached for a hidden knife.
"You can't kill your own blood, Rocco, it isn't in your nature," Luca taunted.
Rocco caught the blade inches from his throat, his muscles straining against the older man's strength.
He looked over and saw Noah crying, burying his face in Victoria's shoulder.
The soft, forgiving man Rocco used to be died in that exact moment.
He twisted Luca's wrist until the bone snapped loudly in the quiet night air.
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Rocco took the knife and drove it directly into his brother's treacherous heart.
Luca's eyes widened in absolute shock before fading into a cold, empty stare.
