Chapter 5 - The Price of Blood
Time fractured into jagged, violent pieces.
Before the lead gunman could pull the trigger, Dante moved with a lethal, terrifying grace that belonged on a battlefield. He fired twice through the settling smoke, dropping the first operative instantly.
Bullets chewed through the hardwood floor, kicking up splinters of oak and shattering the wine glasses on the kitchen island.
“Elena, crawl to the pillar!” Dante shouted over the deafening roar of gunfire, firing again and neutralizing the second attacker.
My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. Every instinct screamed at me to curl up and hide, just like I had done all those years ago when Michael walked out, just like I had done every time life tried to crush me.
No.
I wasn't invisible anymore. I was Elena Rossi. And nobody was going to kill the man who gave me my life back.
Instead of crawling to safety, I spotted the heavy iron fireplace poker resting beside the exposed brick hearth just a few feet away.
The third gunman had Dante pinned behind a marble pillar, his automatic rifle reloading with a sharp metallic click. Isabella stood behind him, clapping her hands like a spoiled child watching a circus act.
“Finish him!” Isabella screamed. “Kill them both!”
I lunged forward.
Before the gunman could raise his barrel toward Dante, I slammed the heavy iron poker across the back of his helmet with every ounce of strength I had left.
The man collapsed like a felled tree, unconscious before he hit the floor.
Isabella froze. Her jaw dropped, the gun in her hand trembling as she stared at me in absolute horror.
“You...” Isabella whispered, raising her pistol toward my chest.
She never got the chance to pull the trigger.
A single shot rang out.
Isabella gasped, dropping her weapon as her shoulder blossomed with a dark red stain. She stumbled backward, hitting the steel window frame before sliding down to the floor in a heap of designer fabric and tears.
Dante stepped out from behind the pillar, his gun smoking slightly, his face a mask of cold, unmitigated wrath. He didn't look at Isabella. His dark eyes scanned the room frantically until they landed on me.
In two long strides, he crossed the floor, grabbing my face in both hands, checking me over for wounds.
“Are you hit? Elena, talk to me, are you hurt?” he demanded, his voice cracking with a raw vulnerability I had never heard before.
“I’m fine,” I breathed, tears finally spilling over my lashes, though I was shaking from head to toe. “I’m okay, Dante. I’m okay.”
He pulled me against his chest so hard I could barely breathe, burying his face in my hair. The sirens began to wail outside, growing rapidly louder as Boston’s finest—and Dante’s private security detail—converged on the building.
Ten minutes later, the penthouse was swarming with police, paramedics, and cleanup crews. Isabella and her surviving mercenaries were dragged out in handcuffs, the Vance empire’s final, desperate gamble shattered into dust.
Dante and I sat side by side on the edge of the crushed leather sofa. A paramedic dabbed a small scratch on my forehead while Dante refused to let go of my hand, his thumb rubbing soothing patterns across my knuckles.
“You realize,” Dante said quietly once the medics had stepped away, looking down at our intertwined fingers, “that you just saved my life. Again.”
I offered a small, tired smile, resting my head against his broad shoulder. “I guess we’re even now.”
“We will never be even, Elena,” Dante whispered, turning his head to press a warm, lingering kiss against the top of my head. “Because I spend every second of every day falling deeper in love with you.”
I froze, my breath catching. I looked up into his dark, burning eyes—eyes that held no secrets left to hide.
“Is that a threat or a promise, Mr. Moretti?” I asked softly.
May you like
Dante smiled, the sharp, dangerous edge of the mob boss completely gone, replaced by the man who loved me enough to rebuild my world.
“It’s a life sentence,” he murmured, pulling me back into his arms as the Boston rain washed clean the streets outside. “For both of us.”
