Rule 7 : Rage

CHAPTER 55: Last Breath Of Blood.

Padrone Ruggiero cocked the gun, his breaths ragged. "I'll kill you—all of you..." he snarled, but his voice faltered as Rocco lunged. In one swift motion, Rocco hurled his knife, the blade sinking into Ruggiero's forehead with a sickening thud.

The gun fired wildly as Ruggiero crumpled, bullets shredding the walls and plaster. His body twitched, the gun slipping from his hand and clattering to the floor.

Rocco retrieved the gun, a grin tugging at his lips as he stepped back. Above, a creaking sound echoed. The others' heads snapped up, but Ruggiero, disoriented by the knife lodged in his forehead, blinked in confusion.

A cold dread washed over him as the chandelier swayed. His heart pounded, drowning out all else.

With a violent crash, the chandelier shattered, shards raining down. Ruggiero's hands shot up too late—glass sliced into his scalp and shoulders. "Aaaarrghh!" he screamed, blood streaming down his face, vision blurring as shards drove deeper. His body convulsed with pain as he tried to crawl away, but his limbs felt heavy and unresponsive.

Rocco yanked the knife from Ruggiero's forehead, pointing it at his eyes. "Halt," Lord Maximus growled, his gaze lingering on Rocco before shifting to Ruggiero. "Let's turn a foe into a friend."

Rocco sniffed hard, kicking the dying man forward as Ruggiero snarled. The guards exchanged glances, brows furrowing at their boss's unexpected words.

Lord Maximus wiped a bead of blood from his cheek and stepped back, a bitter look crossing his face. "You brought this upon yourself!"

Ruggiero groaned, his face twisting as if every muscle was being pulled taut by the pain. A strained grin flashed across his bloodied lips. "Conti..." His words cut off, teeth clenching as Maximus's boot slammed down on his hand, bones shattering against the cold concrete. A nauseating crack echoed, and Ruggiero's breath hitched. Lord Maximus sneered, grinding his heel into the mangled flesh. "Conti used you like the pawn you are."

The gut-wrenching crack of bones breaking pierced Ruggiero's guttural scream, his hands vibrating wildly as Lord Maximus leaned close, breath ghosting in Ruggiero's ear. "All for money, but I could offer you something more..."

"I'll show you everything—everything you need to know about the Shaque. Our factions, our stash—it'll help him take me down," he mocked, a sinister grin spreading across his face.

"I could spare your life, but first, you need to sign some papers." He gestured, and a guard handed him a file. Maximus thrust it toward Ruggiero, who shook his head vigorously, panting harder.

"Don't you want to know why Conti is doing all of this?" Ruggiero's hand quivered as he reached for the paper. The pen scraped awkwardly across the surface, leaving jagged lines on the page.

Lord Maximus drew a slow breath, a smirk curling his lips. His eyes lazily swept over the bodies scattered on the blood-stained floor like discarded trash.

Ruggiero rasped, a wave of nausea crashing over him as he retched, bile rising in his throat. "Let's finish this... then you'll know everything."

Lord Maximus chuckled, his eyes narrowing as he watched the broken man sink further. "We're already finishing it." He pushed off from the chair with a grunt, his briefcase swinging lightly by his side. "Let's go, boys," he ordered.

Without hesitation, the four men trailed after him, their boots echoing against the tiles as they left Ruggiero to his fate.

The old man tried to crawl, skin sagging, blood oozing, his head gleaming with shards of glass that reflected in his reddened eyes.

Lord Maximus paused, turning to the pitiful sight lying helplessly on the ground. "We are resolving it......with your blood, Padrone Ruggiero!" He chuckled softly, the gun catching a glint in the light as he aimed it at him.

Ruggiero's fingers trembled. In his fading strength, he thought, You won't win this easily. You think this is the end, Massimo Salvatore. He winced. "You'll regret this. Conti will make you pay... just like he did me."

Lord Maximus pulled the trigger. The guards erupted in sadistic laughter as Ruggiero's blood sprayed in a crimson arc across the walls. His skull exploded, chunks of flesh flying like fragments of a shattered doll, the pale white of his gray matter glistening eerily in the dim light.

"Vernon, get him. I'd like to smoke on his ashes!" Lord Maximus commanded.

"Yes, boss," Vernon replied, adjusting his eye patch. Once a member of The Midnight Consortium, he now served the Shaque after being exchanged for one of Lord Thorn Russo's men. A giant of a man, Vernon was powerful and calm, with only two tattoos—one on his head and the other on his arm.

In no time, the entire place shook with thunderous thuds. Vernon, carrying Ruggiero's corpse across his broad shoulders, moved swiftly, gun still cracking bullets into the air. "Exhibit fire!" Lord Maximus growled as they approached the exit.

Rocco flicked his wrist, dropping a black round ball. They retreated as distant gunshots echoed through the room, a few masked men charging in.

Their eyes scanned the room. "It's a mess everywhere, Don. I'm afraid he's gone missing," one of the masked men barked into his phone, his breath quickening with each passing second. A constant beep filled the air, growing louder and more frantic.

"Do you hear that, guys?" another man yelled, voice muffled as the beeping intensified. "We're trapped... Axle... guys, let's return to base!" Their eyes widened in horror as they lunged for the exits.

The beeping reached a fever pitch and abruptly stopped, plunging the room into breathless quiet. "What do you mean we're trapped?" Axle snarled.

Time froze for a heartbeat—then a deafening roar shattered the silence. Fire crackled, engulfing the building in a searing blaze as debris and concrete hurled in every direction. A wall of heat scorched the air, and the ground quaked beneath the blast, devouring the North Graveyard into ashes.

Lord Maximus reclined in the backseat, a cruel smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as the wind howled against the windows, rattling the glass with each gust. The bass of the music thumped loudly, barely drowning out the distant, ominous rumble of flames—a sound that seemed to feed his ego.

"Time to send a message," he purred. "Conti will get his skull gift-wrapped; the vultures will handle the flesh... and the ashes?" His fingers flicked the cigarette. "Perfect for my next smoke." His men offered grim nods in approval.

"We should celebrate this, my Lord," Brick scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"Turn up the music!" Lord Maximus barked, but just then, the bassline was interrupted by the shrill buzz of his phone. A sly glint appeared in his eyes as he saw Martini's name flash on the screen.