DEVON'S POV
Before I could say another thing, I heard another shot and then bullets raining outside.
"Devon what's going on?" Melissa asked me her voice laced with worry and a little bit of fear.
"Stay put." I told her as I swiftly moved to secure the door from within and barricaded the door with a sofa and then pushed a wardrobe to support the door.
"What do we do now?" Melissa asked.
"We need to leave now." She added her voice filled with urgency.
"Calm down." I said as I went to the window to check what exactly was going on, my phone rang, causing me to stop in my tracks.
" Devon, take your sister out of there right now!" My uncle Antonio said from the other end.
Before I could even reply, he had hung up on me. Sometimes I address my uncle as Pà, he has been my dad since I lost my parents and he often addresses me as his son and his daughter - my cousin, Melissa as my sister.
"Who was that and what did he say?" Melissa asked in one breath while attempting to stand up.
" That was dad and he said we need to leave right now." I replied, helping her sit on her wheelchair.
"Is that all he said?" She asked, her face laced with worry.
I nodded affirmatively as my mind pondered on how I was going to get her and myself out of this chaos safely. I knew it was no other person than the Grant's.
Before coming to see Melissa in her room, I had walked around the building and we had spent a couple of holidays here so I knew the exits like the back of my palm.
"Here." I said, handing one of my short silent revolvers to Melissa.
"Always prepared." Melissa said with a smirk.
" As a member of the mafia world one has to always walk around prepared for things like this." I replied and we laughed a little, careful not to get too loud.
I pushed the wardrobe and sofa aside, my heart racing with anticipation as I cautiously checked the hallway, my eyes scanning every nook and cranny. The coast was clear. I noticed that the men who usually guarded Melissa's door were absent, likely called away to assist with the invasion outside.
I propelled Melissa's wheelchair down the corridor, my muscles pumping as I sprinted towards safety. We swerved into the hallway, cautiously avoiding the deadly crossfire echoing from nearby rooms. I hastily scanned our surroundings.
My mind racing, I thought, 'There has to be a hidden storage room somewhere here...' And then, my eyes landed on it - a subtle seam in the wall, almost imperceptible. Without hesitation, I swiveled the wheelchair towards the hidden door, knowing we'd find temporary safety within. As we approached, a desperate plan began to take shape in my mind.
"Melissa, remember the new phone and SIM card Dad gave you?" I asked urgently, my eyes scanning our surroundings for any sign of danger as I opened a spot and keyed in the code, causing the door to open.
"Can you reach it? We need to make a call, now!" I whispered intensely, my gaze darting towards the storage room entrance as I wheeled her towards it and entered, locking it behind us.
" Yes." she whispered. Suddenly someone walked past the store, oblivious of the presence of such a compartment in the house.
"Phew." We heaved a sigh of relief in unison.
"Here's the phone." Melissa said, taking out the phone from her pocket.
Grabbing the phone from her I dialed the emergency number 911.
"What are you doing, we'll be in more trouble." Melissa panicked.
" No we won't, this is the only way we can distract them and leave, sirens." I said.
"Help, we're being attacked!" I said immediately when I heard the emergency unit respond to my call and ended the call.
I slowly turned the handle and pushed the door open, my heart racing with anticipation. But before I could even step through the threshold, a burst of gunfire exploded from the hallway, forcing me to slam the door shut and dive for cover. I kicked Melissa's wheelchair away from the door with my left leg, pushing her away to safety.
I risked a few cautious peeks through the door, my revolver at the ready. The goon was closing in, his weapon raised. I took aim and fired, my shot silent but functional as the goon crumpled to the ground, his weapon clattering to the floor.
"Come on, hurry!" I yelled to Melissa, my voice low and urgent. I wheeled her towards the hidden exit, my eyes scanning the area for any sign of danger. We reached the door and I pushed it open, revealing a narrow stairway that led down to the garden.
The sound of sirens grew louder, a welcome reprieve in the chaos. I could see our man, Jack, waiting for us by the bulletproof car, his eyes locked on us with a fierce intensity. But the Grant's goons were closing in, their numbers seemingly endless.
"Wherever you are, drop your weapons." The police chief commanded and most of the mafia retreated.
I pushed Melissa's wheelchair with every ounce of strength I had, my eyes fixed on the exit gate in the distance. We were almost there, almost safe. But just as we approached the gate, Vincenzo emerged from one of the trees in the garden, no one really knew how he looked except Melissa because of his signature mask and hat. He kicked me, causing me to fall to the side and wrapped his arm around Melissa's neck from behind, placing the tip of his IOF 9mm Pistol on Melissa's head.
"Back off, or she's dead!" Vincenzo bellowed, his voice echoing through the garden. The police officers, who had been closing in, halted in their tracks, their weapons raised but frozen. "Don't do this, Vincenzo!" one of them pleaded.
"Help me, Devon!" Melissa screamed, her voice trembling with fear. I could see the terror in her eyes, the desperation. Vincenzo had her in a tight grip, his arm wrapped around her neck like a vice.
I was paralyzed with fear, my mind racing. If I made a wrong move, Vincenzo would kill her. I knew it. The police knew it too, which was why they were hesitating.
"Let her go, Vincenzo!" I shouted, trying to keep my voice steady. "You're not getting out of here!"
Vincenzo's laugh was cold, mirthless. "Oh, I'm not going anywhere," he sneered. "Not without her."
Vincenzo retreated with Melissa Vincenzo's tires screeched as he sped away, Melissa held captive in the passenger seat. The police and our men gave chase, their sirens blaring and engines roaring as they pursued Vincenzo's vehicle into the woods. Trees blurred together in a green and brown haze as the convoy hurtled down the winding road, the distance between us and Vincenzo's car growing with every second.
"Fuck! We lost him!" I yelled, slamming my fist on the dashboard.