The man turns toward me, smiling.
Smiling.
He made the mistake of coming for what was mine.
The gun comes up, steady and certain.
Without a second thought, I shoot him in the head.
The shot cracks through the room— sharp and final.
Blood and red mist spatter the walls.
His body drops instantly, dead before he hits the floor, blood beginning to puddle around him.
Silence slams down for one brutal second.
Then I lower the gun and step over the body like he’s already nothing.
“Vito,” I say, my voice flat as death itself. “Clean up this mess and take out the trash.”
“On it,” he says immediately.
I turn away from the corpse and go straight to Elsa.
She’s pale as death. Shaking. Hair wild. Sweater torn.
Alive.
Thank God.
“Elsa.”
She makes a broken sound and throws herself into me.
I catch her hard, one arm banded around her back, the other cradling the back of her head as I pull her against mychest.
She’s shaking so violently I can feel it through my bones.
“I’ve got you,” I say into her hair. “I’ve got you. You’re safe.”
Her hands knot in my shirt.
“He was here,” she chokes out. “The doctor let him in—Antonio, she let him in—”
“I know, dolcezza. Breathe for me.”
I pull back just enough to look at her face.
“Did he touch you?”
She shakes her head fast. “No.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“No.”
I scan her anyway. Arms. Neck. Face.
