Chapter 10 - THE GILDED CAGE RUPTURES
Corrado’s finger tightened on the trigger.
He wanted to tear the prize from Sebastian’s hands before he died.
Clare saw the black eye of the muzzle swing toward her.
She didn't scream.
Her breath locked in her throat.
Sebastian moved with speed that defied twelve years of immobility.
He didn't draw a gun.
He lunged forward, throwing his entire six-foot-two frame across Clare’s body.
CRACK.
The gunshot exploded like dynamite inside the acoustic room.
The bullet tore through the left shoulder of Sebastian’s bespoke suit jacket.
A spray of dark crimson splashed across the white marble baseboard.
Sebastian didn't even grunt.
He absorbed the impact with a snarl of pure animal fury.
With his right arm, he caught Corrado’s gun wrist, twisting it upward with bone-shattering leverage.
Corrado howled as the radius snapped.
The chrome pistol clattered across the parquet floor.
Sebastian drove his left fist directly into Corrado’s jaw.
The blow lifted Corrado off his feet, crashing him through the mahogany side-table and sending crystal whiskey decanters shattering across the floor.
Before Corrado could push himself up from the puddle of bourbon and glass, Gabriel Mendes was there.
The heavy steel barrel of Gabriel's submachine gun was pressed firmly against Corrado’s forehead.
"Move," Gabriel whispered, "and I'll empty the drum."
The council chamber was dead silent.
Gunsmoke drifted beneath the chandeliers.
Sebastian stood breathing heavily, his left hand pressed against his bloody shoulder.
Clare rushed to his side, catching his elbow before his knees could buckle.
"You're hit!" she gasped, her hands immediately checking the wound.
"Through-and-through," Sebastian breathed through clenched teeth.
"Missed the artery."
He didn't look at his wound.
He looked down at Corrado crawling in the glass.
Don Carmine Falcone slowly rose from the center of the horseshoe table.
His ancient ivory cane clicked against the floor.
The eighty-two-year-old chairman looked down at Corrado with profound, suffocating disgust.
"Under the Laws of the Founders," Don Carmine declared, his raspy voice carrying the weight of seventy years of blood.
"Corrado Lombardi is stripped of his name, his assets, and his bloodline."
"He is declared an outlaw to the five families."
"Sebastian Lombardi holds the executioner's right."
Sebastian looked down at his cousin.
Corrado was sobbing, clutching his broken wrist, blood dripping from his shattered jaw.
"Sebastian... please," Corrado wept.
"We have the same blood! Uncle Anthony wouldn't want this!"
Sebastian looked at the antique gold watch resting on the table.
His father’s watch.
"My father died with your bullet in his chest, Corrado," Sebastian said softly.
"I won't waste another bullet on you."
He looked at Gabriel.
"Hand him to Assistant Director Vance at the FBI field office."
"Give Vance the micro-film, the bank ledgers, and the forensic toxicology reports."
Murmurs of shock rippled through the mob bosses.
"Sebastian!" Don Carmine warned.
"We don't bring the feds into family business!"
Sebastian turned his cold gray eyes toward the chairman.
"The old business is dead, Carmine," Sebastian said, his voice ringing through the room.
"Starting tonight, the Lombardi family is out of the shadows."
"Our ports will carry legitimate commercial cargo."
"Our warehouses will hold medical supplies, not narcotics."
"Anyone who tries to bring poison into my city..."
Sebastian stepped forward until he was two inches from Don Carmine's nose.
"...will answer to me on two feet."
He turned back to Clare.
He offered her his uninjured right arm.
Clare looked up into his face.
She saw the warrior who had conquered his own body.
She saw the man who had taken a bullet meant for her heart.
She slipped her hand through his arm.
May you like
Together, they walked down the center aisle of the Union League Club.
Fifty of the most dangerous men in North America bowed their heads in absolute silence as they passed.
