All Chapters of The Glass Rose : Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Lucien's POV The small kitchen radio was still spitting out static when Salvatore’s main driver burst through the back door of the farmhouse, and his face was completely gray with dust while he dropped a bag of fresh ammunition onto the table where Alessia was cleaning her rifle. The news from the north was bad because Don Salvatore Rossi had already crossed the regional borders with forty trucks full of southern shooters, and they were systematically hanging any local Roman capo who didn't hand over the keys to their warehouses within five minutes of their arrival. "The Butcher didn't even wait for the smoke at San Marco to clear before he started his march, and his advanced scouts are already checking the small fishing docks along the Palermo coast because he knows your father didn't die without an escape boat," the driver said as he panted and leaned against the wooden sink. "We can't stay in this valley for another night because if his scouts find that black speed boat in the

Matteo's POV ​The damp chill of the brick factory was sinking deep into my bones as I sat on an empty oil drum near the shadows, and my skin felt raw and hot while the echo of the gunshot that killed Cesare kept ringing inside my ears because the silence that followed was just waiting for the next body to drop. I watched Lucien loading fresh shells into his shotgun while Alessia cleaned the blood from her boot with a rag, and the anger in my chest was growing so loud that I could hardly breathe because everybody was acting like we had all the time in the world while the southern soldiers were sleeping in our family’s beds. "We are sitting here in the dirt like beggars while Don Salvatore is setting up his captains in our old offices, so we need to load the van with the heavy rifles and drive straight through the front gates of his headquarters before he expects us," I said as I stood up from the drum and my knees were shaking from the sickness but my hands were clamped tight arou

Alessia's POV​The smoke from the rail yard was still hanging on the shoulders of our jackets when we rolled the van back inside the mixing room, and the three crates of rifles we managed to save were sitting on the wet concrete while Paolo tried to clean the soot off the barrels with an old greasy shirt.I sat on the edge of the folding table and watched Lucien wrap a fresh strip of linen around his burned forearm, and every time the wind rattled the loose corrugated iron on the roof my mind jumped straight to Matteo because he had been gone for five hours now and the western district was completely silent.​"We only have sixty rifles and four boxes of ammunition to our name, so if your brother doesn't bring his squad back before daylight we won't have enough shooters to cover the three main intersections leading into our warehouse district," Lucien said as he tied the knot on his bandage with his teeth and looked up at me with his tired eyes.​"He went after their supply trucks with

Alessia's POV The utility van skidded hard on the wet grass as Lucien swung the wheel toward the rusted perimeter fence of Saint Jude’s, and the headlights caught the backend of three black SUVs parked across the main path while flashes of orange gunfire were already lighting up the ancient stone walls of the chapel. I didn't wait for the vehicle to stop completely before I kicked my door open and rolled onto the muddy turf with my rifle in my hands, and the sound of heavy automatic rounds was bouncing off the old marble monuments while a couple of southern shooters turned around from the ditch to face our sudden arrival."Paolo, take the boys and lay down a heavy line of cover toward those SUVs so they can't pin us against the fence, and Lucien you stay right on my hip because we have to break through that side porch before they drop the roof on my brother," I shouted as I dragged myself behind a large granite angel to avoid a spray of gravel from an incoming burst."The main doors

Lucien's POV The morning mist was still thick over the ancient stone walls of the old highway when Paolo killed the engine of our utility van, and we were parked behind a clump of overgrown bushes near the intersection where the southern cash convoy had to slow down to bypass the old Roman aqueduct ruins. Matteo’s tip about the payroll was accurate because my father's old contact within the municipal precinct had confirmed that Don Salvatore was sending three million in cash to pay off the central police captains before the Monday noon shift, and if we could intercept that black armored truck before it reached the city limits the Butcher wouldn't have enough grease left to keep the local authorities from raiding his new warehouses."The scouts just radioed from the lower bend and they said the convoy consists of two black sedans and a reinforced delivery van with southern plates, so they are carrying enough automatic weapons to hold off a small army if we don't block the road on the