"Get down!"
Dante's hand closed around my arm and yanked me down beneath the table just as the first gunshot tore through the room. Glass exploded somewhere behind me. Chairs crashed over. Someone screamed, and the meeting we'd walked into moments earlier dissolved into pure chaos.
My mind scrambled for footing. Survival first. Then Dante, and I realized with a jolt that he'd positioned himself between me and the gunfire without seeming to think about it at all.
"Marco, windows!" Dante shouted. Chairs scraped as his men drew weapons, spreading toward whatever cover the room offered. More shots followed, sharp and precise, and I forced myself to watch instead of simply cower.
One of Dante's men fell. Then another.
The visiting representatives from the other family remained largely unto
