Chương 67: New Ability, Multi-Kill, Urgency
In the bar, Lorenzo's pistol rested on Domenico's temple, while Virgil, frozen stiff at Domenico's side, couldn't reach for his own heat.
"Take it easy, Lupo," Virgil growled. "You don't wanna start a war with the Barzini family."
Lorenzo chuckled, his cold eyes glinting in the low light. "I'd say the same to you, buttercup. But looks like the shoe's on the other foot now, ain't it?" He pressed the gun harder against Domenico's temple, making him flinch.
"Heh, you're a brave one, Lupo," Domenico chuckled, his voice shaky. "Didn't you know it's you who's in the hot seat? We're on our family's turf, see? My boys are all around this—"
Before Domenico could finish, Lorenzo pulled the trigger. The gunshot echoed through the bar, followed by a shower of plaster from the ceiling. Virgil's heart skipped a beat, but Domenico was still alive, albeit with a trickle of blood running down his temple where the bullet grazed him.
"Enough with the obvious, Domenico," Lorenzo drawled, pressing the smoking barrel against his head.
Domenico flinched but held back any complaints, fearing the next shot might not miss.
"I know they're outside, Domenico," Lorenzo said, his voice as cold as ice, devoid of fear. Mike, his driver, was the only one visibly shaking.
"Then why are you doing this?" Domenico's voice trembled.
Lorenzo chuckled and patted Domenico's cheek with his free hand. "Ain't you the forgetful one? You made the first move, consigliere."
Virgil's heart pounded in his chest as he heard footsteps outside. Barzini's men were closing in.
"Our boys are here, Lupo. Better put that shooter away," Virgil warned.
Lorenzo just smiled, his gaze flicking to the door as the Barzini goons burst in, Tommy guns at the ready. "You! Drop your roscoe!" one of them barked, aiming at Lorenzo.
Lorenzo didn't flinch, but kept his pistol firmly against Domenico's temple.
Lorenzo's gaze flicked to the Barzini goons, but his keen senses didn't miss Virgil's movement. As time seemed to slow down in his perception, he saw everything in vivid detail: Mike cowering, Domenico's flash of relief, and the Barzini boys training their tommy guns on him. Virgil's eyes, however, held a determination Lorenzo hadn't seen before. The man was going for his piece, hoping to save his associate.
Lorenzo's lips curled into a cold smile. He wasn't about to let that happen.
In the slowed-down world, Lorenzo chuckled. He felt like he was swimming through molasses, but his powerful physique allowed him to move with ease. He aimed his pistol at Virgil and pulled the trigger. The bullet left the barrel in slow motion, a deadly ballet of death homing in on its target.
Shifting his attention to the Barzini goons, he fired one by one, each bullet a deadly kiss to their foreheads.
As he returned his gun to Domenico's temple, time resumed its normal flow.
The sound of gunshots echoed through the bar, followed by the thud of bodies hitting the floor. Virgil, slumped over the counter, a hole where his eye was.
As the Barzini goons realized what was happening, it was too late. One by one, they crumpled to the floor with holes between their eyes.
"Anyone else want to try their luck?" Lorenzo asked, his voice cold as ice.
Domenico's eyes widened, and he only snapped out of his trance when he felt the warmth of Virgil's blood on his cheek. He turned to see his associate slumped over the counter, a gaping hole where his eye once was.
"Aah!" Domenico screamed, ducking for cover and frantically wiping the blood off his face. His mind reeled, trying to comprehend the carnage that had just unfolded before him.
Lorenzo's cold voice cut through the ringing in his ears. "Oh? You seem very afraid, Mr. Mazza. Is this enough to terrify you?"
Domenico's shaking legs barely supported him as he rose to face his tormentor. His eyes darted between the corpses of his men and the smirking Lupo. "H-how did you do it?"
Lorenzo's smile widened, but he remained silent. He didn't need to explain himself.
Mike, cowering in the corner, was also white as a ghost.
"I don't need to explain myself, Domenico," Lorenzo drawled. "Just tell Don Barzini to respect the Lupo's decisions."
With that, he motioned for Mike to follow him, and the two of them left the bar. As they got into their car, Mike's hands shook as he opened the door for his boss.
As Lorenzo slid into the car, his mind whirled with thoughts. While using his ability to slow down time seemed effortless, he knew the toll it took on his body and mind. "I've done it now," he thought, running a hand through his hair. "The Barzini won't take this lightly."
He knew relocating was the smart choice, but his pride wouldn't let him back down so easily. His men and Deborah, however, were another story. They didn't have his abilities, and that weighed heavily on his conscience.
"I'll cross that bridge when I get there," he muttered. For now, he needed to figure out how to deal with the fallout from today's massacre.
Mike drove the car, his hands shaking on the wheel as he secretly glanced at his boss. The adrenaline from the recent massacre still coursed through his veins.
They sped away from the bar, leaving the carnage behind them. It wasn't until they were several blocks away that the wail of police sirens reached their ears.
---
As they sped away from the scene, Lorenzo knew there was no turning back now. He'd just made a powerful enemy in the Barzini and Tattaglia family. Relocating was the only option left.
Mike drove them to the Corleone family's territory, where Lorenzo asked to see Don Corleone. Tom Hagen, the Don's right-hand man, greeted him. "What's got you here, Lorenzo?"
"I need to speak with the Don. It's urgent," Lorenzo said, his expression grim.
Tom studied him for a moment before nodding and led him inside.
On their way, they passed Michael, who acknowledged him with a nod. Sonny, on the other hand, was too busy flirting with a maid to notice.
Finally, they reached Don Corleone's office. Tom whispered in the Don's ear, and after a moment, the boss waved him in.
Lorenzo entered, closing the door behind him.
Lorenzo entered the dimly lit office, the air thick with cigar smoke. He approached Don Corleone's desk, a polished mahogany behemoth that dominated the room. With respect, he kissed the Don's rings, a sign of deference and respect. "Buon giorno, Don Corleone."
Don Corleone looked up from his paperwork, a smile creasing his weathered face. "Ah, Lorenzo, come in, have a seat." His voice was like gravel, rough but commanding.
Lorenzo sat down. He glanced at Tom, the Don's right-hand man, who raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "I... I have news, Don Corleone."
"Speak your mind, my friend," Don Corleone said, lighting a cigar. Smoke curled around him like a halo.
Lorenzo took a deep breath. "I... I took care of Barzini's men, and... and I also dealt with Virgil Sollozzo from the Tattaglia family."
Tom's jaw dropped, his cigar falling from his lips. "You... you did what?"
Lorenzo swallowed, meeting Don Corleone's steely gaze. "I had no choice, Don Corleone. They... they wanted me to get involved in their drug business."
Don Corleone puffed on his cigar, the end glowing red. He steepled his fingers, considering the news. "You've made quite a mess, haven't you, Lorenzo?"
Lorenzo sighed, but held the Don's gaze. "I know, Don Corleone, and I'm sorry. But I couldn't bring myself to be a part of that filth."
Tom interjected, "Don Corleone, I've done business with Sollozzo before. He's… I mean, he was, a stand-up guy."
Don Corleone waved a hand, silencing him. "I understand, Tom. This is between me and my friend here." His eyes bored into Lorenzo's. "You've got balls, kid, I'll give you that."
Lorenzo nodded, his jaw set in determination. "I'm not afraid to face the Barzini family, Don Corleone. But... I have my lover, and many of my men might be targeted for retaliation."
Don Corleone steepled his fingers, considering the request. "You want me to protect your lover and your men?"
Lorenzo shook his head. "No, Don Corleone. I'm asking for a favor. I plan to relocate my gang to the West Coast. I want to take my lover with me... I was hoping you could temporarily protect our escape while we take our belongings from here."
Tom's eyebrows shot up. "Wait, Lorenzo. What about the movie you're producing?"
Lorenzo chuckled, but there was no mirth in it. "I have time for that later. Besides, the place I have in mind is near Hollywood. Who knows? Maybe it's where I'll start my movie production career."
Tom leaned forward, interest piqued. "What about your current movie studio in Harlem? You gonna sell it or keep it running?"
Lorenzo rubbed his chin, considering the question. "I was hoping they'd relocate with me. The production equipment is too valuable to leave behind, and I can't let my good employee go."
Tom sighed, a hint of disappointment in his eyes. He'd been looking forward to the final product of "12 Angry Men" script.
Don Corleone tapped his desk, a decision made. "Very well, Lorenzo. I'll make the arrangements. But know this, this favor comes with a price. One day, I may call upon you for a favor in return."
Lorenzo nodded, meeting the Don's gaze. "I'll never forget this, Don Corleone. If you ever need my help, I'll be there… even if it's in ways you least expect."
Don Corleone chuckled, amused by the cryptic response. "Very well, consider it done. Tom, see to it that everything is taken care of."
Tom stood, straightening his suit jacket. "Yes, Don Corleone."
Lorenzo knew the Barzini family's attack on Don Corleone was imminent, but he didn't know the exact date. He couldn't prevent it, but he could still help when the time came.
"Don Corleone," he said, lowering his voice, "the Barzini and Tattaglia families are becoming bolder. Be cautious around them."
Don Corleone and Tom exchanged glances, their expressions turning serious for a moment. "Grazie for the reminder, amico mio," Don Corleone said, patting Lorenzo's shoulder. "We've got our eyes on them."
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