“That’s not happening,” I said firmly. “You’re leaving here today, and you’re going to live a long, happy life.”
I leaned in closer, lowering my voice to a whisper. “Take care of our baby.” Then I pulled back and looked her in the eye one last time. “You promised me, Emily. You swore. Go.”
I gently pushed her away. My voice cracked as I added, “You were the only beauty in my ugly world.”
She cried out, trying to get back to me, but Maxim was already there. He grabbed her from behind, dragging her away as she screamed my name over and over.
Brando, watching it all with detachment, turned me around and started walking me toward the choppers, his gun pressed hard against the back of my head.
His voice dropped so low only I could hear it. “On the count of three, pull the gun from the back of my belt and shoot.”
My eyes widened, a surge of adrenaline pulsing through me, but Brando had already started counting. If I weren’t a man built for war, I wouldn’t have made it to three.
In one motion, I grabbed his gun, spun around, and blew Giuseppe’s filthy brains out. Brando yanked me down with him as a storm of gunfire erupted around us.
Maxim moved like the soldier he was, sprinting for one of the cars and bringing it around to give us cover. I didn’t have to worry about Emily, the cars were bulletproof. From behind the vehicle, I fired back, my rage exploding with every pull of the trigger.
Three choppers lifted off in a panic, Giuliano’s cowardly ass escaping in one of them. Some managed to get themselves onto the choppers, the others were gunned down by my men.
I didn’t know if Giuliano got hit, and at this point, I didn’t care. The field had turned into a battlefield, bodies scattered like fallen warriors.
That’s when I saw Brando had been shot. Blood soaked the sleeve of his white shirt, but he stayed focused, gun raised, eyes sharp. Lucia’s father and his sons were crouched nearby. I signaled to them. With Maxim covering me, we advanced, sweeping through the chaos toward what was left of the enemy.
A few were still alive, groaning on the ground, their weapons out of reach. Among them, two of my disloyal underbosses. Not a scratch on them. The cowards trembled with their hands in the air.
My blood boiled. I checked my magazine, empty. Maxim, reading my mind, handed me a loaded weapon without a word. I didn’t hesitate. Two bullets. Two dead men.
“Traitors,” I muttered, the word bitter on my tongue.
Turning to Maxim, I gave my final command. “Riddle every corpse with bullets. No one leaves here alive.”
Maxim’s face lit up with savage satisfaction. His loyalty, and his shared thirst for vengeance, were written all over him. “On it, Don Carlo.”
He opened fire, unloading bullet after bullet into the lifeless bodies. The air filled with the deafening roar of gunfire and the thick, acrid scent of gunpowder. No mercy. No forgiveness. This was the price of betrayal.
When I turned back, Brando was standing there, his face twisted in pain. Furious, I marched up to him and slammed my fist into his jaw. He stumbled, laughed, and spit blood onto the ground.
“I deserved that. Let’s get to Emily first, then I’ll explain everything.”
“You knew about Giuseppe’s plan for her?” I growled, my gun ready to fire.
His tone shifted, dead serious now. “No. I swear. I had no idea.”
For now, that was enough. I turned and headed toward the cars. Giorgio was already waiting by the back door of one, holding it open. Inside, I saw her. My wife. Her face was pale, contorted in pain. Her hand trembled as she reached for me.
I climbed in, pulled her into my lap, and wrapped my arms around her gently. With my free hand, I brushed the tears from her cheeks.
Giorgio and Lorenzo jumped in, and the car sped off. Emily clung to my shirt, her soft whimpers tore straight through my chest. I kissed her face, over and over. “I’m here, baby. I’m here. It’s all over now. Breathe. Calm down.”
“I thought I lost you,” she murmured weakly.
“No. No, no. That’s not happening,” I whispered fiercely. “Nothing can keep us apart.”
I kept kissing her, her forehead, her cheeks, her lips, soft, steady, grounding her in every touch. Eventually, her breathing began to ease. She took my hand and guided it to her stomach. “I don’t know if the baby’s still alive.”
I didn’t know either, and the not knowing was eating me alive. But right now, my wife was all that mattered. I kissed her hand and tried to put her at ease. “The baby’s fine. Everything’s okay. I promise you.”
She rested her head against my neck, her lips brushing my skin as she whispered, “The baby will be fine. You’re here with me, and that means everything’s going to be okay.”
