Chapter 9 - Healing the Wounds
Inside the cathedral, Lucas saw the sudden shift in Marcus’s men. One of them checked his phone, his eyes widening.
"Boss! It’s a trap! The feds are—"
Before the man could finish, Lucas drew his weapon with blinding speed. He fired, neutralizing the threat closest to Marcus. The sanctuary erupted into chaos. Gunfire shattered the remaining stained-glass windows, sending a rain of colored glass down upon them like burning embers.
Lucas dove behind a heavy oak pew as bullets ripped through the wood above his head. He fired back, his training taking over. He was no longer the peaceful father; he was the apex predator of the Moretti line, fighting for the survival of his pack.
"You soft bastard!" Marcus screamed, firing wildly down the aisle. "I'll kill you! I'll kill them all!"
A siren wailed in the distance, growing louder by the second.
Lucas moved through the shadows, flank-checking Marcus's remaining guards. With tactical precision, he disabled them one by one until only Marcus was left, cornered near the altar, his gun empty, his chest heaving with desperate breath.
Lucas stepped out of the smoke, his gun leveled directly at his uncle’s forehead. His finger tightened on the trigger. The urge to end it, to eliminate the threat permanently, screamed in his blood.
"Do it," Marcus wheezed, glaring up at him. "Show them who you really are, Lucas. You're a Moretti. You're a monster, just like me."
Lucas stared at the pathetic, broken man before him. He heard the sirens outside, heard the heavy boots of the tactical team rushing the doors. And then, he heard Sarah’s voice in his mind: If you put that gun in your belt, you're letting them win.
Slowly, Lucas lowered the weapon.
"No," Lucas said, his voice calm and cold. "I am not like you. I have a family waiting for me. You have nothing."
The cathedral doors burst open, and a flood of tactical officers poured into the sanctuary, light beams cutting through the dust. Marcus was tackled to the ground, screaming curses as he was dragged away in handcuffs.
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Lucas turned, dropping his gun onto the stone floor. He walked past the officers, out into the cool, cleansing rain.
At the bottom of the steps, Sarah was waiting. She broke past the police tape, throwing her arms around his neck. Lucas held her tight, his tears mixing with the rain on his cheeks. It was finally, truly over.
