Chapter 18 - ASHES ON THE ROOF
Salvatore drew an ivory-handled revolver from his coat, his hands trembling violently.
"Stay back, Victor!" Salvatore shrieked against the howling wind.
"I built this empire! You were just my favorite hound!"
"A hound that is about to bite off your head," Victor answered, taking heavy steps forward.
Salvatore panicked, firing three wild shots through the thick rain.
One bullet grazed Victor’s ribs, tearing through his blood-soaked shirt, but Victor didn't even flinch.
He closed the distance instantly, grabbing Salvatore's wrist and slamming it down onto his knee.
The ivory revolver slipped from Salvatore's grip, falling off the edge of the high roof into the ocean below.
Victor grabbed the old mob boss by his velvet collar, lifting him completely off his feet.
"This is for Elena," Victor growled into Salvatore’s terrified face.
"Please... Victor... I have millions... I can make you a king!" Salvatore pleaded, weeping hysterically.
"I don't want an empire," Victor replied coldly. "I want peace."
With a sudden, explosive surge of strength, Victor threw Salvatore across the rain-slicked roof.
Salvatore crashed violently into the side of the idling helicopter, knocking out the pilot inside.
The helicopter veered dangerously, its spinning tail rotor smashing into the roof's concrete edge.
Sparks rained down as the fuel line ruptured, instantly igniting into a massive fireball.
An explosion rocked the entire roof, blowing the burning helicopter off the building into the dark sea below.
Below them, deep inside the warehouse, the thermite charges detonated in rapid succession.
Flames shot out of every window as the entire structure began to collapse into an inferno.
Victor stood on the crumbling roof edge, looking down at the burning wreckage of his past life.
The syndicate, the lies, the bloodshed—everything was burning away into white ash.
The roof began to buckle beneath his feet as heavy steel beams snapped like twigs.
Victor turned and sprinted toward the fire escape ladder just as the roof caved inward.
He leapt across the widening chasm, catching the iron ladder with his bare, bloodied hands.
He swung himself down, sliding down the iron rails as the entire warehouse collapsed into flames behind him.
He landed heavily on the wet pavement of the alley, gasping for air amidst the smoke and ash.
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He reached into his inner pocket and pulled out the crumpled drawing of the red heart.
It was singed around the edges, but the bright red crayon heart remained untouched.
