Mikey Russo's POV
The warehouse is a freaking inferno. Flames lick the walls, concrete chunks crash like meteors, and I'm coughing up a lung, dodging bullets and falling beams. Vinny's ahead, a one-man wrecking crew, carving through Madame V's goons to get to Lila.
My big bro's got that look eyes like a pissed-off wolf, ready to tear the world apart. Me? I'm just trying to keep up, my piece hot in my hand, popping shots at anything that moves. Sal's on my left, blood dripping from a gash on his forehead, but he's still swinging. We're the Russo family adopted, scrappy, and too damn stubborn to die.
But Lila's gone, snatched by that ice-queen Madame V, and Frankie's traitor ass is probably laughing somewhere. This night's a dumpster fire, and I'm loving every second.
"Move, Mikey!" Vinny roars, ducking a goon's wild swing. He drops the guy with a headshot, clean and cold. I grin, even as a bullet zips past my ear. Vinny's the king of this game, but I'm the wildcard, and I'm itching to prove it.
We're chasing the side exit where Madame V dragged Lila. The Commission's behind this, those shadowy old bastards who think they run the Mafia. They set up Lila's arranged marriage to Tony to spark this war, and now we know why: Lila's Madame V's kid, hidden with the Carusos like a damn sleeper agent. It's nuts, but it explains why everyone's losing their minds over her. Me? I just want my brother's back and maybe a chance to flirt with Lila when this is over. Girl's got fire, and I'm a moth.
Sal grabs my arm, yanking me behind a crate as another explosion rocks the warehouse. "Mikey, we gotta split!" he yells, voice hoarse. "Cops are coming, sirens everywhere!"
"Screw the cops," I snap, peering over the crate. Vinny's at the exit, kicking the door down, but it's a trap goons swarm him, and he's fighting like a cornered dog. "We ain't leaving Vinny!"
Sal curses but nods. He's family, sworn to us since we were boosting cars in Brooklyn. Adopted or not, he's ride-or-die. We sprint toward Vinny, guns blazing. I clip a goon in the shoulder, and Sal takes out another. Vinny's holding his own, but he's bleeding from that graze on his arm, and I can tell he's slowing. Big bro's human, even if he acts like a god.
We reach him just as the warehouse groans, the ceiling caving in. "Go!" Vinny shouts, shoving me toward the exit. "Find Lila, I'll cover!"
"No way, Vin!" I yell, grabbing his jacket. "We're in this together!" But before we can argue, a new sound cuts through the chaos a low, mechanical hum, like a drone on steroids. I look up, and my jaw drops. A freaking helicopter hovers above the shattered roof, black and sleek, with a spotlight blinding us. Ropes drop, and guys in tactical gear slide down, moving like Navy SEALs. These ain't Tony's rent-a-thugs or even Madame V's crew. Who the hell are they?
"Vinny, what's—" I start, but he's frozen, eyes wide. That's bad. Vinny don't freeze.
"Commission's private muscle," he mutters, voice low. "We're screwed."
The tactical guys open fire, and we dive for cover behind a burned-out forklift. Bullets ping off metal, and I'm cursing every saint I know. Sal's praying in Italian, which means he's freaking out. The goons we were fighting scatter, and I catch a glimpse of Tony yeah, that coward's still here bolting for a side door. Figures he'd rabbit when the real heat shows up.
Then comes the twist that flips my whole damn world. One of the tactical guys steps forward, peeling off his mask. It's Joey. Freaking Joey, Vinny's best friend, the guy we buried a year ago after Tony's goons beat him to death. He's alive, scarred up but standing there, smirking like he just pulled the ultimate con. My brain short-circuits. We watched him die on that CCTV footage. Vinny's been killing himself over it, and now Joey's here, working for the Commission?
"Vinny Russo," Joey calls, voice calm but mocking. "You're a hard man to kill. But the Commission's done playing."
Vinny's face goes white, then red with rage. "Joey?" he chokes out, gripping his gun so hard his knuckles crack. "You're alive? You let me think—"
"Business, Vin," Joey cuts in, shrugging. "You were getting too big, too reckless. The Commission needed you humbled. Faking my death was the easiest way." He nods at the tactical guys. "Now, hand over your crew, or we mow you down."
I'm shaking, not from fear but from anger. Joey was family, adopted into the Russo fold like me. We mourned him, bled for him, and he's been playing us for the Commission's paycheck? I wanna spit in his face, but Vinny's got that look—like he's one second from charging and damn the consequences.
"Mikey," Vinny whispers, voice deadly. "Get Sal out. Find Lila. I'm ending this."
"Vin, no!" I hiss, but he's already moving, stepping out with his hands up, gun dangling. The tactical guys tense, but Joey waves them off, smirking. Vinny's playing a game, but I don't know the rules.
"Joey," Vinny says, loud enough for everyone to hear. "You want me? Fine. But let my brother and Sal walk."
Joey laughs, cold. "Sentimental. Fine, they can go for now." He nods at us, and I grab Sal, dragging him toward the exit. My heart's screaming to stay, but Vinny's counting on me. We stumble outside, sirens wailing closer, the chopper's hum fading.
Sal's panting, eyes wild. "Mikey, what's the plan?"
"Find Lila," I say, mind racing. "She's with Madame V, and if Joey's with the Commission, they're all in on it." I pull out my phone, texting our last few guys to sweep the city. Lila's out there, and her mom's still in that warehouse if it's still standing. But my gut's telling me Joey's not the only ghost we're facing.
We're halfway to our car when my phone buzzes. Unknown Nummer: Russo's done. You're next. Check the docks. Attached is a live feed Lila, tied up on a boat, Madame V standing over her, and Frankie at the helm, grinning. But that's not the worst part. In the background, there's another figure, hooded, giving orders. The camera zooms, and I catch a glimpse of a ring a Caruso family crest. Lila's dad? He's supposed to be dead, killed years ago in a turf war. If he's alive, running this show with Madame V and the Commission, then Vinny's walking into a trap bigger than any of us imagined.
I freeze, heart pounding. Vinny's facing Joey, Lila's on that boat, and now Lila's dad's a ghost pulling strings? The Commission's playing us all, and we're out of moves. I slam my fist on the car hood, cursing. "Sal, get in. We're hitting the docks."
As we peel out, the city's a blur, sirens chasing us. Vinny's alone, Lila's a prisoner, and the ghosts of our past are coming for blood. I'm just a punk kid with a gun, but I'm a Russo, and we don't quit. That boat's going down, even if I have to blow it sky-high myself.