Chapter 109

Layla

Gunfire ripped through the night, a deafening roar that drowned out all else. Smoke hung heavy in the air, carrying with it the thick, metallic scent of blood so strong I could taste it on my tongue. Chaos reigned—men shouting, gunfire crackling, the wounded groaning as they lay bleeding on the mansion’s once-pristine grounds.

I had no idea how much time had passed since the siege had begun, but it had become my whole world.

I ducked behind a marble pillar as bullets chipped away at its surface, sending shards of stone flying. My pulse throbbed in my ears as I reloaded my pistol, the weight of it familiar, comforting, in my hands.

“Cover me!” Carlo shouted somewhere close by, and I leaned out around the pillar as he dove across the courtyard in search of better cover.

My pistol thumped against my palm as I shot.

The first bullet sent a man flying backwards. The second dropped another directly to the ground.

Strange, that I’d once had such hesitation to kill. There was no hesitation now, when it was my life or theirs. My loved ones or them. My family or Rossetti’s.

How were there so many of them? No sooner had I dropped those two soldiers than two more leapt into their place.

Somewhere nearby, Aldo’s voice cut through the chaos, barked orders directing men through the rubble and report. “Push them back! Don’t let them breach the main house!”

I couldn’t see him, but knowing he was close by gave me comfort. Strength. Pride. The will to keep going.

My muscles ached from exhaustion, but I couldn’t stop. Not until the last of these bastards was dead or running.

Another explosion rocked the estate, sending flames licking into the sky. The Rossettis had come prepared, but the Marcellos lived in a constant state of readiness. And we fought with the ferocity of a family defending our home.

I didn’t register at first when the gunfire began to die down. It was like all at once, quiet rang in my ears and I wasn’t shooting or being shot at and I couldn’t fully process how I’d gotten here—what peace actually meant.

My rapidly roving gaze couldn’t find any strangers amongst the people still standing. The shouts belonged solely to my family, to Aldo and his men. Had they fled? Had we killed them all?

Slowly, I lowered my weapon. My chest heaved with ragged gasps, and the remembered echo of gunshots rang in my ears. Only now did my hands start to tremble with adrenaline.

Silence settled over the estate.

Several of the outer buildings had been damaged, and some of the main house had taken some heat: windows shattered and siding charred. The gardens had been ripped to shreds, and smoke curled into the night.

Blood stained the marble patio.

But we’d won. And our home had survived. Nothing had happened that a little hard work—and money—couldn’t repair.

I re-holstered my weapon and at long last, turned to find my husband.

He leaned against a marble pillar on the far side of the back patio. Blood streaked his face, and his suit jacket was torn and soaked in blood and dirt. But he was standing. Breathing. Alive.

I smiled in such sweet relief.

“We did it,” he said, voice grim. “They’re gone. My men are chasing them down the street.”

The wave of exhaustion and safety came on so strong it nearly made me heady. My body still hummed with adrenaline, with the aftershock of battle, but alongside it was something almost akin to joy.

“We’re alive. They’re gone.” They were gone. This was Rossetti’s big play … and he’d failed. We’d driven them back.

We’d won.

I launched myself at Aldo, wrapped my arms around him, and held him to me like he was the only thing anchoring me to the world. Sometimes, I thought he was.

“We won,” I whispered against his shoulder, my voice shaking.

His arms wrapped around me, firm and steady. “Yeah. We won.”

“They’re gone.”

He kissed the top of my head, squeezed me once more, and let go. “I’ll get Eli and Vanessa out of the safe room.”

“I’ll go.” I released my arms from around him—albeit reluctantly. I didn’t want to let him go, or out of my sight, but I also didn’t want him traipsing about the manor when he should be resting. “You sit. I’ll be right back.”

I left him at his wheelchair and hurried into the manor. Luckily, it was mostly untouched inside; the fighting hadn’t breached the interior of the house, and it felt strangely like being plunged back into an old life.

I tried not to dwell on it as I jogged through the house to the safe room. My body felt heavier than usual as the adrenaline slowly waned.

“Vanessa!” My knuckles rapped against the door. “It’s safe! You can come out!”

Only silence followed in the wake of my words. My voice echoed down the empty hall.

“Vanessa?” I called again, pounding my whole fist this time. “You in there?”

Nothing.

The relief and exhaustion in my chest flickered, and a nagging feeling of unease crept into my gut.

Trying to steady my still-shaking hands, I carefully keyed in the disarm code on the door. It beeped, and the door swung open.

Darkness met my gaze, and I knew immediately that something was very, very wrong. I didn’t have to descend into that dark, nor even call into it, to know that Eli and Vanessa weren’t inside.

And the light being off likely meant that they’d never made it down there.

I let the door tap slowly closed behind me as I turned to face the empty hall. Not so much as a picture out of place on the walls. No signs of a struggle.

No one had come inside.

Which meant that Vanessa hadn’t been intercepted and abducted. No ill-intentioned intruder had cut off her path to the safe room, snatched up her and Eli.

My mind tripped over and over those thoughts, over and over, trying to make sense of them. Trying to decipher what they meant. What they implied.

“Layla?” Carlo appeared at the end of the hallway—likely sent by Aldo to check up on me and see what was taking so long. “Everything all right?”

“No.” I slid my hand into my pocket, drew out my phone. Somehow, it was undamaged, and I had a full signal. “Vanessa and Eli aren’t in the safe room.”

“What?” Carlo watched me with a furrowed brow as I jammed my phone against my ear. It rang hollowly through my skull.

Once.

Twice.

Three times—

Vanessa’s soft, alto voice murmured against my ear as her voice mail took over. “Please leave your name and number …”

I hung up and tried again.

Nothing.

A lead weight dropped into my stomach as I headed back down the hall. My phone still pressed to my ear, that ringtone echoing hollowly.

I shoved outside into the cool night, nearly running headlong into Aldo in his chair as I stepped through the door.

“Layla?” His expression mirrored Carlo’s for concern.

“She’s not picking up.” My chest felt like someone had wrapped a tight rubber band around it, preventing my lungs from expanding all the way.

Aldo’s expression darkened like a thundercloud rolled suddenly over the sun. “What?”

“I’m on it, boss.” Carlo pulled out his own phone as he hurried across the lawn. I had no idea who he was calling, but if I knew anything, it was that Carlo was on the job.

And that meant the Rossettis would rue the day they attacked my home and took my son.