Chapter 55: It’s Over

Third POV

Inside James’s Range Rover, the five men were speeding away from the estate. Orso gripped the steering wheel, his eyes fixed on the road, while Marco sat in the front passenger seat beside him, his expression completely blank and unreadable.

Elia sat wedged in the middle of the back seat, with James and Tony holding his arms pinned to his sides. He was fuming, his chest heaving up and down with suppressed rage.

"I’m really not going anywhere!" Elia said, his voice dangerously low and dead certain.

Marco didn’t even bother to answer him.

"Stop the car!" Elia screamed, thrashing wildly to break free from James and Tony’s grip. "Stop the bloody car right now!"

In a sudden fit of fury, Elia kicked out violently, striking Tony’s foot. In that split second of distraction, Elia managed to lung forward, grabbing the steering wheel and yanking it sharply. The vehicle swerved out of control.

Orso reacted instantly, slamming his foot down on the brakes. The tires shrieked against the pavement, bringing the car to a halt just inches before crashing into a tree. They were still far too close to the private park surrounding Fabio’s villa.

The second the car stopped, Elia reached frantically for the door handle, scrambling right over Tony and dashing out into the open air. But the moment his feet touched the ground, Marco grabbed him by the back of his shirt and slammed him hard against the side of the car.

"Let go of me!" Elia yelled, struggling against the hold, but Marco’s grip only tightened.

Elia was breathing fast and hard, his eyes darting anywhere except at Marco’s face.

"I am in no mood to entertain your childish tantrums," Marco said, his voice chillingly low and laced with a harsh warning, a tone he had never once used with Elia before. "Get back in the fucking car before I lose my temper and hit you!"

By now, the rest of the men had piled out of the Range Rover.

"Marco, calm down," Tony cautioned, stepping forward, though Marco refused to loosen his grip on Elia.

"Marco," Orso called out, but Marco still remained entirely unmoving.

"Tell him to get back in the car," Marco demanded, glaring fiercely at Elia, who kept his gaze stubbornly averted.

Orso walked over and placed his hand on Marco’s shoulder. "Let him go first. Then we can talk."

Marco closed his eyes in frustration, taking a slow breath before finally releasing his grip. He turned sharply toward Orso. "There’s nothing to talk about. At least not until we are far away from Sicily." He pointed an accusing finger at Elia. "He listens to you... so make him get back in the car, or I will force him."

"I said... I’m going nowhere! If you have a problem with that, shove it up your ass and leave me alone!" Elia screamed, spinning on his heel to walk away.

Marco lunged forward instantly. But before he could reach him, Orso caught Marco by the arms while Tony caught Elia by the wrist, cutting off his escape.

"Wait," Tony murmured to Elia, keeping his tone calm and polite. After a brief hesitation, Elia gave a small nod. Tony then turned his attention back to Marco. "At least tell us what the hell is happening. You can’t just drag us out like this and act like a madman without explaining anything. We are bound to ask questions, aren’t we?"

Marco, who had completely lost control of his composure, looked up. His eyes were bloodshot- clouded with raw anger, but beneath it burned something far deeper. Fear, perhaps. Or pure heartbreak.

"You want answers?" Marco spat out, his eyes locked onto Elia as if every word was meant solely for him. "Then listen carefully... Right where we are standing right now... this is Corvino territory. And as it turns out, Fabio is a Corvino. A CORVINO! Is that reason good enough for you?"

As Elia listened, his eyes widened in sudden shock, every trace of his earlier anger instantly evaporating. Orso released his hold on Marco, his eyes flickering briefly in surprise as the gravity of the revelation settled over him.

James and Tony, however, merely exchanged a quiet, knowing look between themselves, one that went entirely unnoticed by the others.

"How...? I don’t..." Elia stammered, his voice broken and full of disbelief.

Marco ran a hand back through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut as if desperately trying to shove back the flood of emotions threatening to spill over.

"It is my fault, and I’m fixing it. So, for once in your life, just listen to me," Marco said, his voice dropping to a low, pleading murmur as he looked at his brother.

Elia stared back at him. After a long, tense silence shared between them, Elia gave a stiff, solemn nod.

Marco let out a sigh of relief, stepping closer to pull Elia into a tight embrace. "I’m... sorry about earlier."

Elia remained frozen for a moment. When Marco didn’t let go right away, Elia pushed lightly against his chest.

"Don’t you ever hug me again," Elia muttered, looking away, though the edge in his eyes had noticeably softened.

Marco let out a soft, breathy laugh and reached out to pat Elia’s head.

Before his hand could touch his hair, a familiar sound cracked through the air.

A gunshot.

Instinct kicked in immediately. Marco grabbed Elia and tackled him to the dirt. James and Tony ducked down beside them in unison.

Orso, however, collapsed to the ground with a heavy thud. The bullet had caught him straight in the chest.

"Orso!" Elia cried out, his voice trembling as he broke away from Marco’s grip.

Crawling over, Elia saw blood rapidly pooling across Orso’s chest, taiting the grey t-shirt he had on.

"Orso!" he called out again, but Orso remained completely motionless and unresponsive.

Before anyone could move, several black vans screeched to a halt, surrounding them from every angle. Doors slid open- there was no chance to fight back.

And just like that, Marco, Elia, Tony, and James were dragged away and forced into the vehicles, leaving a dying Orso behind on the ground.