Remo whirled around, pointing his guns at us then pointed them back at the kitchen doors, approaching them slowly. Nino knelt beside a body. Diego rushed toward them. His father lay in a pool of his blood. Bullet wounds littered his body. His eyes stared unseeingly up at the ceiling. Diego made a small choked sound. Two dead assholes lay near the bar, dead. Russians, no doubt. The waiters next to the bar were dead as well.
Im crying sm rn
