Mafia Kings: Adriano: Dark Mafia Romance Series #2
Mafia Kings: Adriano: Chapter 82

“ADRIANO!” I screamed.

Suddenly gunfire erupted all over the restaurant.

Strangers poured into the room, guns blazing.

Massimo and the other Rosolini men took cover and opened fire.

Guests screamed and darted beneath their tables –

The musicians in the band scattered –

And Mezzasalma’s calloused hand closed around my arm and hauled me to my feet.

“ADRIANO!” I screamed.

I saw him struggle to get up from the floor –

Before Mezzasalma fired two more bullets into him.

BANG BANG!

Adriano fell out of sight behind the table.

I screamed in horror –

And the old man began dragging me across the room.

His men lined up behind him and fired at any Rosolini soldier who dared show their head.

Mezzasalma fired at them, too – and for the first time, I saw his weapon.

There was some kind of a mechanical arm, a contraption that had been folded inside his suit jacket.

When he’d flicked his wrist, it had extended to its full length –

And placed a small gun right in the palm of his hand.

Within a few seconds, he had dragged me across the room into the underground passageway leading to the lobby.

There were gunshots up ahead of us –

And Mezzasalma put his pistol to my head.

Valentino Rosolini stood farther down the hallway with a gun aimed at us.

A dead man lay at his feet.

“Get out of my way, boy, or I’ll plaster her brains all over the wall,” Mezzasalma growled.

Valentino looked into my eyes –

And immediately withdrew, disappearing around a corner.

Mezzasalma forced me along, using me as a human shield should Valentino change his mind.

He dragged me up the stairs to the street just as a silver car roared up.

A clean-shaven man with sandy-colored hair jumped out of the driver’s side and rushed around the front. He left the door open and the engine running.

Behind us, the gunfire crescendoed inside the restaurant –

Pop pop pop pop pop pop pop pop –

And then it was over.

People in the street were running and screaming.

Mezzasalma opened the passenger door of the car and shoved me inside.

“Get in the back and keep a gun on her,” he ordered the sandy-haired man, then slammed the door shut on me.

Mezzasalma limped around to the driver’s side. His black jacket was wet and gleaming in the headlights.

That explained the two gunshots I’d heard a split second apart –

They weren’t from the same gun.

Adriano had shot Mezzasalma, too…

Although not nearly as badly as Mezzasalma had shot Adriano.

“You’re hit,” the sandy-haired man said in alarm.

“I’m fine – get in the back,” Mezzasalma snarled as he slipped into the driver’s seat and put on his seatbelt.

The other man got in the back –

And I felt the barrel of a gun press against the base of my skull.

“Don’t kill her, you fool,” Mezzasalma snapped. “If she gets out of line, just shoot her in the kneecap.”

Then he put the car into gear, and we roared off down the road.

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