Page 58 of Toxic Devotion
“Whatever gave you that impression,” Marco drawled.
Rome sighed and bent down to pick up Marco’s phone, handing it back to him just as both their phones went off.
“Is that…?”
“The alarm,” Marco breathed.
The perimeter had been breached. They were here.
“Take Dante,” he said to Rome. “You know what to do.”
“My job is to protectyou.”
“You’re the only one I trust with him.”
Rome gave Marco a sharp nod before turning on his heels and running out of there. Marco took a deep breath, then walked to the cabinet. He opened the doors, revealing the hidden safe there, and typed in the code. The panel slid to the side, revealing an array of weapons. His lips quirked at the corners as he reached for an assault rifle.
If they thought it’d be child’s play to come onto his land and into his home, they were wrong. Oh, so very wrong, and they were about to find out just how wrong they truly were.
He walked to the window and opened it just enough that he could fit the rifle through the space. The alarm had told him exactly where they’d be coming from. They thought they were smart coming from the wooded area around the back of the house? They were about to get a nasty surprise. They would have to step out of the safety of the trees to make it to the house and once they were all visible, he started shooting, taking them out one after the other.
Only a few of them got off some shots toward the house and, fortunately, they were aimed at the first floor and not the second where Dante and Rome were. He had to duck under the window when a few of those shots came too close for comfort.
“Fottuti stronzi,” he hissed.
He took a breath, then moved back into position. He only saw movement by the pool house and the second the man walked closer, he had two bullets in his chest.
Marco smiled though it was short-lived. He heard gunfire from inside the house and cursed, pulling the rifle back and walking to the cabinet to switch it out for a handgun. It would be easier to use in close quarters. He grabbed a spare magazine and slid it into his back pocket, then closed the safe and headed to the door, gun at the ready as he made his way into the hallway.
He had a clear advantage compared to Alvaro’s men. He knew this house inside out and he wasn’t afraid to get blood on his floors. In fact, he’d been itching to do some killing.
Footsteps going up the stairs had him moving faster. He wasn’t about to let those fuckers anywhere near Dante. He knew Rome and Dante were probably already in a car driving away, but that wasn’t going to stop him from killing these bastards for wanting to hurt them.
He reached the end of the hallway and put his shoulder against the wall, his view of the staircase showing three men moving up the steps. He took the first shot, sending one man falling down the stairs, and then moved back into a doorway. He dropped low when the gunfire started and once there was a break and the sound of footsteps getting closer, a smile found his lips.
The shooter didn’t make it very far before he had a bullet in his leg. Marco lifted his gun higher and pulled the trigger, the man’s head jerking back when the bullet hit him between the eyes.
No one else came. No more bullets came either, so he continued through the house. He moved into the living room and stopped, listening for more footsteps or gunshots. All he got was silence.
He lowered his gun an inch and turned around to head upstairs. He caught a flash of movement in a window reflection and dropped to his knees, spinning around to fire his gun. Something burned. It was a quick flash of pain that he ignored in favor of emptying the magazine in his gun, riddling his attacker with bullets.
Once his gun clicked, he drew in a deep breath and pushed to his feet, clicking the release on his gun to let the empty magazine fall out so he could replace it with the one in his back pocket.
He went through the house slowly and meticulously. He had just checked the kitchen when he heard a groan. He raised his gun and made it down the hallway where he found a man on the floor. He cursed when he saw Marco and tried to reach for a gun that was lying a few feet from him. Marco kicked the gun away, tsking when the guy tried to crawl away from him.
“Alvaro fucked up,” he said, his disdain for the man clear in his voice. “Both Alvaros fucked up, but coming into my home? Going after my family? Oh, he has no idea what he’s done.”
Nothing was going to stop him from taking Alvaro out now. Not the cartel. Not Neil or Cade. Not even Rome. This fucker had it coming now. No one hurt his family and lived. No one.
He aimed his gun at the back of the man’s head and fired, grimacing at the blood and brain matter splattering all over his floors and walls.
“That’s gonna be a bitch to get clean,” he muttered.
With a sigh, he walked back to his office. He opened the cabinet and grabbed more magazines as well as the rifle. If a war was what Alvaro wanted, that’s what Marco would give him.
He had a look at his left side, the blood there was already starting to dry. It was barely a scrape. He’d gotten lucky. He didn’t bother changing his shirt before leaving. He had clothes in his car. They would do just fine. He was most likely going to get a whole lot bloodier very soon anyway.
He made his way to the garage, unsurprised to find the garage door open and one of the cars missing. He grabbed the keys and got into the car, jerking it into first gear, and then he tore out of there.