Chapter 8 - The Resurrection
The silence in the cathedral was so profound that Lorenzo could hear the wax dripping from the candles.
Three hundred of the most dangerous men in America stared at a dead man walking.
Serena’s fake tears dried instantly, her face draining of color behind her black veil.
"Lorenzo?" she whispered, genuine shock finally piercing her flawless armor.
Marco recovered first, pulling his gun out from under his coat and aiming it at Leo’s head.
"Nobody move!" Marco yelled, his voice echoing off the stained glass windows.
"I will paint these pews with this kid's brains!"
Before Marco could even pull the hammer back, a deafening shot rang out from the choir loft.
Marco's shoulder exploded in a mist of red, and he dropped the gun, screaming in agony.
Lorenzo didn't even flinch.
He had spent the last of his fortune overnight to hire the best independent sniper in the city.
The men in the pews erupted into chaos, reaching for their concealed weapons.
"Hold your fire!" Lorenzo roared, his voice commanding absolute authority.
"Look at the exits!"
The mobsters turned around, realizing that every door in the cathedral was now blocked by heavily armed federal agents.
Lorenzo hadn't just brought a gun; he had brought the FBI.
He had sent an anonymous package to the director containing all of Serena's ledgers and proof of her domestic terrorism.
"You are surrounded," Lorenzo told the crowd, walking slowly down the center aisle.
"Anyone who lowers their weapon gets to walk away right now."
"Anyone who raises it dies for a woman who poisons her own family."
The captains exchanged nervous glances.
They were loyal to money and power, not to a crazy woman about to be arrested by the feds.
One by one, the heavy thuds of guns hitting the marble floor echoed through the church.
Serena watched her new empire crumble in a matter of seconds.
She glared at Lorenzo with sheer, psychotic hatred.
"You think you won?" she spat, pulling a small silver pistol from her mourning clutch.
She didn't aim at Lorenzo.
She aimed directly at little Leo, who was crying silently near the wounded Marco.
Lorenzo lunged forward, throwing his body between the barrel of the gun and the child.
Serena smiled wickedly and pulled the trigger.
Click.
Nothing happened.
She pulled it again and again, but the gun only clicked harmlessly.
Lorenzo stood up slowly, brushing the dust from his knees as he looked down at her.
May you like
"Leo is a very smart boy," Lorenzo said softly.
The toddler was sitting on the floor, holding the tiny firing pin he had cleverly removed from her gun earlier that morning.
