Mafiosa Bonus POVs

The Aftermath (Dom POV)

The sound of the gunshot sucked the noise out of the garden, slammed our mouths shut. It was the kind of horrified silence you don't experience that often. The silence that precedes a shitstorm. It felt like an eternity, but it probably lasted less than ten seconds.

We were all more or less thinking the same thing: FUCK!

Then CJ started puking – on the grass and then into his own hands, like he could hold it all there and we wouldn't notice. There was nowhere else to look. We were all staring at him, the words smacked out of us by what he had done. Sara Marino was lying in a pool of blood at his feet. His gun, still hot, was beside her head. He had dropped it straight after, like it had disobeyed him. Luca was on the other side of her, hands that had been holding her up now empty, his mouth slack with shock.

Fuck.

CJ – little CJ, who used to run around after us with water guns, who used to sneak into Nic's room and steal his T-shirts, who used to beg to drive my Alfa Romeo Spider, sneak into it and curl up on the leather seats, inhaling the scent like a goddamn drug. Little CJ who used to talk like us and act like us and dress like us. Little CJ, who used to annoy the shit out of us, was now, officially, a killer. He had crossed over, and there was no going back. His childhood was over. He was a soldata now.

Sometimes it happens like that – quick, unexpected.

One minute he was staring vacantly at the sky, the next he had the gun to her head, his finger on the trigger. I wondered if Sophie Gracewell had heard it – somewhere on that high-and-mighty throne of hers, or if Nic had actually done something useful and removed his plaything from our house before she could make good on that threat and call the cops. The problem was, there were two of them this time, and they're stronger like that. Millie was so stupidly fearless, I was almost impressed. She looked damn hot, too. I might have chased her if she wasn't so linked up with the most irritating, troublesome girl I have ever met.

My kingdom for a Sophie-less existence.

After those ten long seconds, Luca ripped the silence apart. He grabbed CJ and yanked him by the collar, shook him like a rag doll, less than two feet from Sara's body. 'What the hell did you do? WHAT THE HELL DID YOU JUST DO?'

CJ just stood there, limp in his grip, as my brother screamed every curse word I've ever heard in Italian and English. It's rare to see Luca like that. I like it when he loses himself.

Valentino doesn't.

'Luca!' His voice was low, but his tone was sharp, like an arrow. It shot through our huddle and found its target. 'Calmati.'

Luca released CJ and he flopped to the ground, by the corpse of Sara Marino, by his own vomit and his own smoking gun. His sobs filled the heavy silence.

My mother, who had been standing stone-still beside Gino when it happened, broke rank. She crossed the garden, ignored CJ as she knelt beside Sara and closed her eyes with a brush of her hand. Her lips moved, a soundless prayer, and no one stopped her because whether we wanted to admit it or not, we were all feeling the sudden pinch of guilt. It was as if Sophie Gracewell had held a mirror up to us tonight and we didn't like the reflection.

My kingdom for a Sophie-less existence.

Felice drifted towards CJ, clapped a hand on his shoulder and looked right at the rest of us when he said, 'The boy has had his revenge. You cannot blame him for acting out.'

'Of course I'll blame him,' Valentino spat. He wasn't looking at Sara Marino. He hadn't looked at her once. 'I said we weren't going to kill her. I ordered it.'