Chapter 13: Blood on the Rooftop
The helicopter blades tear the night apart as we rise above the city, Marcus at the controls, two of his best men strapped in beside me. Bella sits across from me, white-knuckled on the seat, bulletproof vest swallowing her frame. She wouldn't stay behind. I didn't waste time arguing.
Fifty-eight minutes to deadline.
We land on the Lockwood Tower helipad hard enough to rattle teeth. The same rooftop where Ethan and I used to smoke cigars and plan world domination when we were kids.
Now it's a killing ground.
Wind whips across the concrete. Floodlights are off. Only the red aircraft warning lights pulse every few seconds.
I step out first, pistol in one hand, the other reaching back for Bella. She takes it without hesitation.
Marcus and his team fan out, suppressed rifles up, moving like ghosts.
Then the lights snap on.
Blinding white floods the entire roof.
Ethan stands dead center, thirty yards away.
He's thinner than I remember, prison pallor, but the smirk is the same. Two mercenaries in tactical gear flank him, red dots already dancing on my chest. A third has a sniper rifle trained from the HVAC unit.
And at Ethan's feet, on her knees, hands zip-tied, mouth duct-taped: Claudia Reyes.
Bella makes a broken sound behind me.
Claudia's eyes are wide, mascara running, blood trickling from a cut on her forehead.
Ethan spreads his arms like he's welcoming me to a party.
"Brother!" he shouts over the dying rotor wash. "You're early. I like punctual."
"Let her go," I call back, voice flat. "This is between us."
"Oh, it is now," he laughs. "But first, a family reunion."
He kicks Claudia hard in the ribs. She crumples with a muffled scream.
Bella lunges forward. I catch her around the waist, haul her back.
Ethan's eyes lock on her.
"So this is the little nurse who kept you warm while I ran your empire." He licks his lips. "Cute. I can see the appeal."
One of the mercs chuckles.
I raise my pistol and put two rounds center-mass into his chest before he finishes the laugh. Suppressor coughs. He drops like meat.
Chaos erupts.
Marcus's team opens up. The sniper on the HVAC takes a headshot and flips backward off the roof.
Ethan dives behind an air-con unit, dragging Claudia with him as a shield.
The second merc sprays full auto. Bullets spark off the helicopter skid inches from Bella's head.
I shove her down behind the landing strut, return fire. Three rounds. He staggers, keeps shooting.
Marcus flanks left, puts a burst into the merc's neck. Blood sprays the concrete like paint.
Silence falls, broken only by the wind and Claudia's muffled sobbing.
Ethan's voice echoes from behind cover.
"You always were the better shot, Damian. But you won't risk Mommy here, will you?"
He yanks Claudia up by her hair, presses a Glock to her temple.
Bella's shaking against me, tears cutting tracks through the dust on her cheeks.
"Damian," she whispers, "don't let him—"
Ethan laughs again, insane now.
"Here's how this ends," he shouts. "You drop the gun, send your dog team back to the chopper, and walk over here. You and me, one bullet left. Winner takes everything. Loser feeds the fish in the harbor."
I look at Claudia—terrified, bleeding, the woman who called me trash for five years.
Then at Bella—the only person who ever saw me.
I eject the magazine, rack the slide to empty the chamber, and toss the pistol across the roof. It clatters to a stop at Ethan's feet.
Marcus hisses behind me, "Boss, no—"
I raise a hand. He shuts up.
I start walking.
Twenty yards.
Fifteen.
Ten.
Ethan's grinning like a skull.
Five yards away, he shoves Claudia aside and raises the Glock straight at my face.
"Any last words, brother?"
I smile.
"Yeah," I say.
Behind him, the rooftop access door explodes open.
Lydia—my sister—steps out with six armed men in Lockwood security black.
Ethan spins too late.
The first bullet takes his right knee. He screams, drops.
The second shatters his shoulder.
He hits the ground hard, Glock skittering away.
Lydia walks up calm, presses her heel into his shattered knee, and leans down.
"Hello, cousin," she says sweetly. "Daddy always liked Damian best."
Ethan howls.
I don't look at him anymore.
I'm already running to Bella.
She meets me halfway, crashes into my arms so hard we almost go down.
Claudia's on her knees, sobbing, as medics swarm.
Bella's clutching my shirt, face buried in my neck.
"It's over," I whisper against her skin. "It's finally over."
She pulls back just enough to look up at me.
Then her eyes go wide.
"Damian…"
I feel it before I hear it—the warm spread across my side.
I look down.
Blood. Mine.
The merc I shot in the chest—his last burst caught me low on the left side. Adrenaline hid it until now.
The world tilts.
I drop to my knees, Bella screaming my name, hands pressing the wound, blood pouring over her fingers.
Marcus is shouting for the medevac chopper.
Lydia's face swims above me, pale.
Ethan's laughter—weak, wet, triumphant—echoes from the ground.
"Looks like we both lose, brother…"
Bella's crying, begging me to stay awake, her hands slick red.
The rooftop spins.
Black creeps in at the edges.
The last thing I feel is her lips on mine, tasting like salt and terror.
Then nothing.
To be continued…