Exposure

The air in the underground garage was thick with the stench of burnt rubber and gunpowder. The echo of the retreating car faded into silence, leaving only the sound of Luca's breath, steady, controlled, as he crouched behind a stack of crates near the entrance to the armory.

He could hear them now, Vince's men descending the stairwell like wolves on a hunt. Boots thudded against stone, orders barked in short, sharp bursts. They were confident. Overconfident. That would be their mistake.

Luca slid the M4a1 from his shoulder, chambering a round with a quiet click. He slipped the Glock 19 into his holster and palmed two grenades from his vest, fingers brushing over the pins like they were old friends.

A shadow moved first.

Luca didn't hesitate.

He yanked the pin on the first grenade and lobbed it toward the far wall, where it bounced once, then rolled beneath an SUV. A heartbeat later, it exploded, metal screamed, fire bloomed, and bodies flew like ragdolls. Smoke billowed across the floor, turning the space into a war zone of shadows and chaos.

Gunfire erupted.

Bullets peppered the crates as Luca dropped low, rolling behind a row of lockers. He came up fast, shouldering the M4a1, and opened up with controlled bursts, three-round salvos, each one finding flesh.

Two men went down before they even knew what hit them.

"Clear left!" someone shouted.

"Flank him!" another barked.

Too late.

Luca switched to the second grenade, this time pulling the pin and counting off seconds before tossing it straight into the middle of the advancing squad. It landed between them, and the explosion was brutal, shards of metal and bone scattered across the concrete, blood painting the walls like grotesque art.

Silence for a moment.

Then movement again.

More coming.

Luca ducked back into the armory, slapping a fresh mag into the M4a1. His fingers burned from sweat and blood, but his mind was razor-sharp. He could feel the adrenaline pushing past exhaustion, sharpening every sense.

A voice rang out through the smoke.

"Luca! You think you're some kind of hero huh?"

Vince.

He stepped into view, flanked by four remaining men, all armed, all looking ready to kill.

Luca didn't move.

"You're just a rat in the dark," Vince sneered, pacing forward slowly. "You think you will walk out of here alive?"

Luca exhaled slowly, stepping out from cover. He raised the M4a1, aiming at Vince's chest.

"I don't care if I don't get to walk out of this one alive," he said. "As long both you and Rocco are dead."

Vince smirked. "You always were so arrogant."

And then it started.

The room exploded into gunfire.

Luca dropped to one knee, sweeping the barrel across the line of guards. Two fell immediately, riddled with bullets. The third managed to raise his weapon, but Luca was faster, he fired through the man's eye socket, the shot echoing like thunder.

The last guard lunged.

Luca caught him mid-step, driving a knife into his throat before spinning and firing the last of the magazine into the fourth man's chest.

Only Vince remained.

Luca ejected the empty mag and slapped in a new one, eyes locked onto his target.

Vince looked around at the carnage, breathing hard, face twisted with fury.

"You bastard," he growled.

Luca advanced, slow and deliberate.

"When you and Rocco killed my grandfather. You took everything from me."

Vince spat blood onto the floor. "I should have killed Enzo and you when I had the chance."

Luca raised the M4a1.

"No," he said. "You should've never started this."

He fired.

Twice.

One to the chest.

One to the head.

Vince staggered back, eyes wide with shock, mouth open like he wanted to say something, but no words came. He collapsed to his knees, then fell sideways, lifeless.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Luca stood over the body, breathing hard, chest rising and falling beneath the bulletproof vest. Blood streaked his face, not all of it his own. His hands trembled slightly, not from fear, but from the weight of what had just happened.

He turned away from the corpse and walked back toward the armory, retrieving the Glock 19. With careful precision, he flicked the switch to full auto and tucked it into his holster.

Outside, sirens wailed in the city.

Luca stood tall, staring down the corridor that led deeper into the mansion, the path to Rocco.

Now, it was time for him to end it, once and for all.

He stepped forward, disappearing into the darkness.

Alone.

Ready.

And finally, free.