Chapter 2 - THE AMBUSH AND THE ESCAPE
Automatic gunfire chewed through the restaurant's elegant interior. Wood splinters, crystal glasses, and expensive wine bottles exploded in every direction. Shrieks of terror filled the air as patrons dropped to the floor, scrambling under tables.
Before I could even scream, a heavy body hit me, slamming me down behind the solid mahogany bar. Lorenzo’s arms wrapped around both me and his baby, shielding us completely with his own body. Glass showered down upon his back like heavy hail.
"Hold him!" Lorenzo roared into my ear over the deafening noise of bullets tearing the room apart.
I curled into a ball, clutching the baby against my chest. The infant buried his face into my apron, crying softly, terrified by the chaotic thunder of gunshots. I covered his tiny ears with my hands, my body trembling so violently I thought my bones would snap.
"Vance family business!" a voice shouted from the street outside—a sharp, venomous voice over a megaphone. "Hand over the child, Lorenzo! The Syndicate demands the bloodline be wiped clean!"
Lorenzo didn't flinch. He drew a matte-black pistol from inside his tailored suit, his eyes turning cold and icy as death itself. He looked down at me, his gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that burned.
"If you move from this spot, you die," he commanded, his voice deadpan despite the chaos. "If you protect my son, you live. Do you understand me?"
"I—I understand!" I sobbed, hugging the baby tighter.
Lorenzo turned to his head bodyguard. "Marco! Flank the left entrance! Drive them toward the alley!"
"Boss, there are too many of them!" Marco yelled back, firing three rapid shots over the bar. "It's the Moretti crew! Someone leaked our location!"
"I don't care who leaked it," Lorenzo growled, his jaw clenching. "They die tonight."
He rose slightly, leaning over the bar and firing with terrifying precision. Screams echoed from the front entrance as two hitmen fell. Lorenzo moved like a lethal ghost—calculating, brutal, and completely devoid of fear.
Suddenly, a grenade bounced across the tile floor, rolling straight toward the bar.
"GRANADA!" Marco yelled.
Without a second thought, Lorenzo grabbed me by the back of my coat, hauling me and his son up in one fluid motion. He threw us toward the kitchen's heavy metal double doors just as the explosion tore through the front of the restaurant.
The shockwave threw us off our feet. We crashed onto the cold stainless-steel floor of the kitchen. Steam from broken pipes hissed into the air, mingling with the smell of gunpowder and burning sauce.
"Up! Get up!" Lorenzo commanded, pulling me up by my elbow.
I scrambled to my feet, my legs shaking like leaf stems. The baby was sobbing loudly now, clutching my apron with a white-knuckled grip.
"This way!" Lorenzo led us through the kitchen, shooting out the lock on the back emergency exit.
We burst out into the dark, rain-slicked alleyway behind the restaurant. A armored dark-blue SUV was idling in the alley, its headlights cutting through the fog. A driver threw the back door open.
"Get in!" Lorenzo barked, shoving me toward the door.
"Wait!" I panicked, pulling back. "I can't go with you! I work here! My life is here! My apartment—"
"Your life as a waitress ended the moment my son picked you," Lorenzo snarled, catching my waist and tossing me into the leather back seat of the armored vehicle as if I weighed nothing. He slid in right behind me, slamming the door shut.
"Drive!" he commanded.
The driver slammed on the gas. The SUV roared to life, violently swinging out of the alley just as a hail of bullets impacted the vehicle's bulletproof glass, leaving spiderweb cracks across the surface but failing to penetrate.
I was pressed against the leather seats, panting, clutching the crying baby in my arms. Outside, the lights of the city blurred past in a smear of neon and rain.
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I looked up at Lorenzo. He was breathing heavily, a small cut on his cheek bleeding onto his collar. He calmly reloaded his pistol, clicked the slide back into place, and then turned his deadly, piercing eyes onto me.
"Congratulations, Mara," he said softly, wiping a smear of blood from his cheek with the back of his hand. "You just became the most hunted woman in the city."
