Chapter 21

Aldo

Instinct took over, and I dove sideways.

The intruder’s gun cracked again. Again. Again.

My feet hit the glossy hardwood behind the bed, and my knees folded. Dropping me down behind the makeshift barricade. Safe—for now.

The bullets shattered the wall behind me.

White plastered sprayed the floor like patchy snow.

“Where is he?” someone shouted. Boots stomped. “Do you see him?

They were looking for me, but they hadn’t found me in the darkness. Good. The element of surprise was still on my side. And I’d be sure to use that to my every advantage.

I slid under the bed, gun in hand.

My heart beat like an anvil against the inside of my ribcage, my breaths shallow. Adrenaline honed my senses to a razor’s edge. But my hand on the gun was steady. So I knew, this time, I wouldn’t miss.

“Where the fuck did he go?” He hadn’t tracked me. Wouldn’t know where to expect my attack.

Good.

“Leave him!”

“No, he could be anywhere …”

Damn straight. They’d broken into my house, but I was the hunter.

I pulled in a deep, steadying breath. Tracking hesitant boots against the wood. Murmured voices. Planning my attack. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.

A predator stalking prey. These men were nothing compared to me. Killers, maybe, but not me. Not the predator I was trained to be since birth.

Calm, ready, I told myself. Swift, sure, practiced. When I moved, it would be once, and it would be lethal. No room for mistakes here.

The boots paused.

My moment.

I slide sideways out from under the bed.

Leapt up.

Lifted the gun. My eyes split the blackness to where I knew the man would be. There—dark from across the room.

I aimed.

Pulled.

The dark form collapsed to the hardwood. Gun still lifted, I spun towards the door. My shot cracked before I’d properly taken aim.

“Shit!” a male voice shouted. “He clipped me! Go!”

Two more dark forms hurtled towards the door. I aimed again—but the two figures slipped through into obscurity before I could pull the trigger.

Shit. They’d escaped.

The thump of harried footfalls echoed down the hall as the intruders fled.

Air flooded my lungs in relief. The gun lowered an inch, two, and I leaned across the bed to grasp my phone. Somehow they’d slipped through my home’s network of defenses, but they couldn’t escape me.

The intruders were running, but I’d have security on them in an instant.

But they weren’t just intruders, were they? My sleep-addled brain had taken too long to put the pieces together. They were assassins—would-be assassins. And they’d tried to kill me—

This is the room?

Should be hers.

No. Not me.

They weren’t here for the Mafia king, Don of the Marcello family. That’s why they’d come to the guest wing, not gone straight to my bedroom.

Not me. This wasn’t about me.

I wasn’t their target.

Holy shit.

Fear shot through me like an electrified arrow. For a moment, the world spun, panic clutching my throat in a vice that rendered my breath useless. Logic fled. The world whited out.

For an instant, I was frozen.

No. Move.

“Fuck.” I leapt over the bed like an action hero vaulting a car. Not thinking. Just moving.

I was running as soon as my feet hit the hardwood on the other side. My bare feet slapped hollowly against varnished wood.

I raced into the hallway. Pursuing those fleeing footfalls like my entire world depended on their capture. Because it did. Because they were after Layla.

My Layla.

My whole fucking world.

And I’d die before I let them hurt her. No, I’d destroy them first.

Adrenaline burned my veins like lava. Air burned my throat like fire. My muscles screamed. But I pushed myself harder.

Faster.

They weren’t here to kill me.

They were after Layla.

Layla. My love. My life. The woman I’d sworn to protect, to live for. To die for.

And once again, I’d put her life in danger.

Faster, Vasco. I opened my stride until my muscles felt like they might tear clean off my bones. Until my lungs might burst, my heart rip through my chest. I barely felt the pain.

Feet slap, slap, slapping, I ran like I’d never run before.

The house had never seemed vaster, the space between bedrooms longer. I’d bought us time by giving her my bedroom—certainly if she’d been in the obvious guest quarters—

No. I wouldn’t think about that.

Panic blackened the edges of my vision. Please, please, please don’t let me be too late …

I hurtled down the hall, nearly crashing against a wall as I took the final turn to the master bedroom’s private hallway. There! At the end of the hallway, the door to my bedroom.

Closed.

A promising sign or an ominous complication?

I didn’t slow. Only the edge of the frame stopped my trajectory in a brutal collision of body and wood. I didn’t even feel the impact.

My fingers closed around the knob. My shoulder pressed the door inwards, and I burst inside. Gun lifted, ready to shoot. Head on a swivel, eyes tearing through the darkness.

But there was no one. No men standing over the bed. No drawn guns. No one here who didn’t belong. Quiet. Silence. Darkness.

Peace.

My gaze fell to the bed in the far corner. The sprawled mass of mattress and blankets was smooth as a calm sea. Save for the small bump at the far edge. A person.

Layla. Layla lay beneath the covers, blonde hair streaked over the pillow like a wayward ocean wave. Her lashes splayed across fine cheekbones.

Asleep.

Right where she was supposed to be.

I lowered the gun. Paused halfway into the room, chest heaving. Heart still slamming away, a battering ram against my bones. But she was there. Safe. Safe despite the intruders that had come looking for her.

They hadn’t come here.

She was here. She was safe. My stupidity hadn’t cost her this life; we’d escaped another of death’s bullets.

How?

Why?

Why hadn’t they come here? Where were they? Were they still looking for her? I half turned towards the door, prepared to run after the intruders. But something stopped me. Held me in place.

Like a bullet drawing me back, she held me in that room. I should run after them. Track them. Hunt them down. But I couldn’t leave her. Couldn’t stray from her side.

Not this time.

Where were they—

The sudden shriek of an alarm tore me from my anxious thoughts. Shit. security had been breached, which meant they’d run right out of the house.

They’d escaped.

My grip tightened on the gun. My instincts begged me to run. To go after them. Hunt down the bastards that had broken into my home. Fired on me.

But I couldn’t budge from Layla’s side. I couldn’t leave her. Couldn’t separate myself from the center of my world.

Especially not as she whipped upright in the bed. Her clear blue gaze fell to me. Brows furrowing tight in confusion, panic. Her mouth tightened as she identified me, standing in the center of her room.

“Aldo?” she whispered. “What’s going on? Did something happen?”

“It’s okay,” I found myself saying, my voice distant, so distant, like it was someone else speaking. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

“Aldo.” Layla’s voice was the hoarsest whisper. “Where is Eli?”