Chapter 33

The "courtesy" visit quickly turned into a gang war. However, calling it a war would be an exaggeration, as it was more of an execution. Giovanni and his men had taken out all of Carlos Diaz's men, leaving only Carlos himself alive.

Carlos Diaz was in tears, begging Giovanni to spare his life. He didn't even need to be interrogated as he was ready to confess everything.

"This world is not meant for people like you, Diaz,". Giovanni said, exhaling cigar smoke over him. They were in a dark warehouse, with Diaz tied to a chair.

"You should have stuck to becoming a singer or a dancer, but no... you chose to play tough by joining the dark world of mobsters."

"You're right, my friend," he said as if he and Giovanni were friends, "...but I never excelled as a singer or a dancer..."

"Stop underestimating yourself, Carlos," Giovanni said with a mocking smile. "I have a question for you, and you will answer me."

"Okay," the man replied apprehensively, aware of Giovanni's fearsome reputation. If he didn't give the right answer, he would regret it.

"Where have you hidden my guns?" Giovanni asked with a stoic tone.

Carlos panicked, having no idea what he was talking about. "What guns?" he attempted, but Giovanni burst into laughter, mixing mockery with anger.

"Carlos, Carlos. The guns that your associate Yuri Stepanov stole from me."

Carlos Diaz was completely clueless about the truth. He didn't know that Yuri had stolen goods from Giovanni. Carlos might have been considered reckless, a thief, an aggressor, or even a murderer, but he wasn't foolish enough to steal from Giovanni Rossi. Unfortunately, Giovanni refused to believe him. He proceeded to cut off Carlos's left ear, plunging the man into intense pain and making him scream in agony.

"Hush," Giovanni ordered him, demanding silence. "Tell me the truth, or I will kill you."

"I told you the truth, but you don't believe me," the man groaned, desperate and visibly distraught.

He was about to order his men to cut off the other ear when he was interrupted by a call from Olivia.

"What's going on?" he asked, worried, noticing the panic in Olivia's voice.

"Men showed up at Umberto's residence. And... they opened fire on everyone." Giovanni went pale. His heart raced, and he felt his hand trembling.

"And Aaron?" he asked, consumed by worry. Nothing else mattered. Only him.

"I'm sorry, Gio." He feared the worst.

Carlos was still there, crying like a child. One of Giovanni's men threatened him to be silent on pain of death, but Carlos was in too much agony to obey. So, Giovanni shot two bullets into his chest to silence him. And then, silence reigned. He lay there, writhing in agony, tied to a chair.

"Aaron was hit by five or six bullets. And..."

Giovanni was overwhelmed by an unbearable sense of despair upon hearing the news.

Giovanni felt an intense pain in his chest, his blood boiling, his whole body shaking. Fear engulfed him at the thought of losing the man he loved.

"They are currently at Saint Louis Hospital. Aaron is fighting between life and death."

A surge of anger rose within Giovanni. He was both devastated and enraged, facing the possibility of losing Aaron filled him with grief. He cursed those who had shot him, cursed destiny, and above all cursed himself for not being there to protect him.

"Saint Louis Hospital," he murmured, rushing to his car with his men. They drove Giovanni to the helicopter in silence. During the journey, Giovanni felt as if he was enclosed in a bubble, cut off from the outside world. Only the cold, darkness, and silence surrounded him.

After what felt like an eternity, they landed at Saint Louis Hospital.

Kira was sitting on a bench, tears streaming down her face, her body covered in blood. Next to her stood Nikita and Valery, the latter also stained with Aaron's blood.

Giovanni approached them, still holding his gun in his hand.

"Where is he?" he demanded authoritatively, but no one replied. He then clicked his weapon against his temple, adding, "Do you all want to die?"

Umberto intervened to defuse the situation. "Calm down, Giovanni. He is still in intensive care. It's been an hour."

Giovanni then let himself go to tears, terrified for the first time in his life. He feared losing the love of his life, never seeing him again.

"Who was it?" he asked, his eyes darkened with anger.

"Yuri Stepanov," Kira replied, glancing towards the emergency room door.

Giovanni said nothing and headed towards the hospital exit, his men and Umberto following closely behind.

"Where are you going, Giovanni?" Umberto asked. "Don't do anything reckless." Giovanni did not respond. As he made his way to the helicopter, he crossed paths with Olivia and told her, "Call me if there's any news," then he walked away.

Olivia was worried about Kira. She hurried to join her, finding her still sitting on the bench with Nikita and Valery.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"I guess that's a rhetorical question."

"I'm sorry. How is he doing?"

"Bad. He's been in there for an hour without any news. These doctors are really incompetent. If we were in Russia..." Kira sobbed.

Giovanni had every reason to be angry and sad, but Kira seemed and must have been even more overwhelmed. After all, he was her brother. Her twin. Her blood. Her best friend.

"Dad is on his way with the best doctors from Russia."

The prospect was hardly comforting. Giovanni was already on edge, and the arrival of Ivan Smirnov would only make things worse.

After speaking with Kira, Olivia approached Umberto.

"How are you? What exactly happened?" she asked him. Umberto took a deep breath before recounting the whole story to her.

"We were picking grapes when suddenly, a gunshot rang out. They were many, with Russian and Italian men. We fled to the house, protected by Aaron and Kira's guards, while Giovanni's men retaliated against our attackers..." Umberto paused, hesitant to mention the moment when Aaron had been close to being shot.

"They seemed to want Aaron. I heard their men talking about 'the man who looks like an albino'. When Aaron rushed to save Pepito..."

"Pepito?"

"Yes, Pepito. Margherita's grandson. He had been left outside while the shooting intensified. Everyone was busy protecting themselves, and unfortunately, Margherita had already passed away by then, so no one remembered Pepito."

"Margherita passed away?" Olivia asked, shocked and saddened, covering her mouth.

"Yes," Umberto nodded, tears in his eyes. He had been in love with Margherita for ten years already.

"...and Aaron rushed to save the child. He was hit in the arm on the way out, but he continued his mission and hid behind the vines. We don't know exactly how he was shot in the stomach, but he was hit by at least two bullets. While carrying Pepito to the house, he was shot in the back twice as well. Despite this, he persisted and collapsed on the doorstep. At that moment, our attackers retreated. As if their mission had been accomplished."

"Oh my god," murmured Olivia, not knowing what else to say. There was no one to blame in this tragedy. Should Nikita and Valery be blamed for not being able to protect their employer? They thought they had put him in safety before going to help Giovanni's men neutralize the threat. Or should Aaron be blamed for not taking cover?

There was no one guilty other than the attackers who had assaulted them. Everyone knew Giovanni was going to massacre them.

Yuri Stepanov was trapped. Giovanni had locked all exits. His men were everywhere, monitoring the country's airports and ports. He had no way of escaping.

Seven of Yuri's men had been captured, but claimed not to know where he was. Giovanni had executed them without hesitation. He was determined to find the one who had shot his beloved. His men brought him food, but he had no appetite. Then, a phone call had pushed him over the edge.