"Figlio di puttana!" Davil roared, his voice echoing across the sprawling estate as he fired at a glass bottle perched on the weathered wooden table.
The sharp crack of the shot was followed by shattering glass. "Bastardo!"
He raised his gun again and pulled the trigger, obliterating another bottle.
"Testa di cazzo!" The venom in his voice matched the fury in his eyes. The curses poured out in a fiery string, each word punctuated by a gunshot, each bullet leaving destruction in its wake.
The lush green grass beneath his feet stood in stark contrast to the storm raging inside the dark figure of Davil Vitale. His chest, bound tightly in fresh bandages, rose and fell with unbridled rage.
He hadn't stayed unconscious for long, only as long as it took for the convoy to reach the chateau.
The moment they arrived, he bolted upright, fury replacing any trace of weakness.
His anger burned like a caged beast, desperate for release. "Have you found that son of a bitch, Romano, or do you want me to paint the whole of Palermo in blood before you do?"
Romano stood stiffly, sweat forming at his temple. He wished that tone was a joke, but with Davil, there were no jokes, not when he was like this. The consequences would be catastrophic.
"Not yet," Romano murmured, his voice barely audible, "but we've traced him to connections with one of the families."
Davil's dark brow arched, his features hardening into something cold and unforgiving. "And which family, exactly, thinks it's a good idea to provoke war with the Vitales?"
Romano swallowed hard, shaking his head. "No idea yet, but we're tracking him to one of the popular clubs in the heart of the city."
Davil tilted his head, his gaze narrowing like a predator stalking prey.
Slowly, he raised his gun toward the bright blue sky. The sun glinted off the polished barrel as he aimed at a soaring bird. Without hesitation, he fired.
The sound cracked through the air, and the bird plummeted. It hit the ground with a soft thud, lifeless.
Davil walked over, his steps deliberate and unyielding. He stopped above the fallen creature, his lips curling into a cruel smirk as he ground it beneath the heel of his polished shoe.
"You'd better hurry, Romano," he said coldly, his voice as sharp as the gunshot that had just rung out. "Because if you don't find him, I'll make sure every person bearing his name dies. Save yourself the cleanup."
Romano stiffened but nodded, knowing there was no point in arguing.
Davil's thoughts drifted for a moment, unbidden, to the image of Giulietta.
He remembered the horror in her hazel eyes as she'd held him, blood pooling between her trembling fingers.
He cocked his gun again, the sound like a thunderclap in the tense air.
Someone had dared to scare her and someone had to pay.