Todos los capítulos de After Death, I Chose The Mafia Don: Capítulo 91 - Capítulo 100

"Giulio's down." Lorenzo's voice came back low and flat, stripped of everything but the facts. "Alive. Something across the back of his neck, not a blade, he's breathing on his own, Marco's with him now. Farro's not up there. He's been and gone."Alessandro's face didn't move. Only his hand did, closing hard enough around Blair's that she felt her rings press into her fingers."How long gone?""Marco says the blood's still wet. Ten minutes, no more." A breath. "He knew exactly where to find that loft, Alessandro. Nobody fed him the choir loft. He found it himself, the same way we did, because it's the only good line in the building. I should have thought of that before I ever trusted a lie to hold.""Not now." Alessandro's mouth barely moved. "Get Giulio out through the vestry, quietly, before anyone in the pews turns around. Put two more men in that loft. And find out where he went, because a man like that doesn't climb down from a kill just to go home.""And the disinformation," Bla

For a long moment nothing else happened. Blair lay with the stone cold against her cheek and her parents' breathing loud somewhere to her left, and the gull went on screaming, and no third shot came, and the not-coming of it was almost worse than another one would have been.Then the radio, Marco this time, breathless in a way she had never once heard from him. "Contact, harbor road, Marco's engaged, two of ours are with him—" A burst of something that might have been static and might have been gunfire, small and far away and utterly real. "Man down, not ours. Repeat, not ours.""Farro?" Alessandro said it into his collar without lifting his head from over Blair's."Can't confirm. Build's wrong for Farro. Younger." A pause, ragged. "We have him. He's not moving."Lorenzo's voice cut in, closer, from somewhere near the gate. "That's one of the six. Not the one we wanted." Blair heard him breathing hard, heard stone scrape under fast feet. "Stay down. This isn't finished.""Then where's

The courtyard took the better part of an hour to empty. Ambulances came for the wounded civilian, a man named Paolo who sold fish off the harbor wall and had been walking home from an early Mass at the wrong moment; he would live, a paramedic said, shot clean through the calf, more frightened than hurt. The dead man on the harbor road was carried off under a sheet before most of the mourners had even finished standing up, and by the time the last of the black-coated crowd trickled out through the gate, there was nothing left in the white stone courtyard to suggest that any of it had happened at all, except a faint dark stain the sun was already starting to dry.Blair found her parents sitting on the chapel steps, Fiorella's arm still locked through Stefano's, both of them very quiet. Her mother looked up and reached for her with both hands, and for a while nobody said anything that needed saying."I want to go home," Fiorella said finally, into Blair's shoulder. "Not Nicoletta's. Our

Lorenzo spread the three names across the kitchen table the next morning like a man dealing a hand of cards he already knew the value of."Fabbri's real name is Renzo Costa. Small-time, does bookings and errands for anyone who pays, no loyalty to Renato beyond the money. We picked him up at his sister's flat an hour ago. He didn't need much convincing." Lorenzo tapped the second name. "This one's more useful. A doctor. Struck off the register eleven years ago, works out of a back room behind a pharmacy on Via Fardella, cash only, no questions. Massimo used him once, for a man who couldn't walk into a hospital with the kind of hole somebody had left in him.""And the third?" Alessandro asked.Blair sat across from him, a cup of coffee going cold in front of her that she hadn't touched, and watched him work through the names with the same unhurried precision he brought to everything, as though the man he was hunting hadn't shot his way through a crowd of mourners the day before."A land

Lorenzo went to the door without knocking, Marco a half step behind him, and the two men on the ridge moved down at the same time toward the water side, unhurried, the way they'd all learned to be unhurried when the fastest-looking choice was usually the one that got somebody killed.Blair stood with Alessandro at the top of the track, close enough to see, far enough to be, technically, obeying the only order Lorenzo had actually given her. Her pulse had settled into something steadier than she'd expected, not calm exactly, but familiar, the particular readiness she'd built one drill at a time without ever quite believing, until this moment, that it would actually be there when she needed it.The door wasn't locked. It swung open under Lorenzo's hand and he went through it low and fast, Marco a beat behind, and for three long seconds there was nothing at all, no voice, no shot, no sound but the gulls and the small endless hiss of the water on the rock below.Then Lorenzo's voice, flat