Chapter 78

Layla

The battle was a blur of sound and movement around me. Aldo and Dmitri’s hidden forces sprang into action around the warehouse, and the result was a constant echo of gunfire and shouting, men darting across open spaces as they ran from cover point to cover point.

Gun in my hand, I couldn’t find a target to aim at, let alone shoot.

What if I hit one of Aldo’s or Dmitri’s men by mistake?

Why did I think I could do this?

I pressed back behind the battered equipment, focused on my breathing. My heart beat too fast, despite my almost immobile state, and I couldn’t tell if the thundering in my head was from my pulse or the gunfire or some combination of the two.

Who was winning?

How could they even tell who was friend and who was foe? Surely, Aldo’s men would overpower Marco’s soon, right? The element of surprise was a powerful—

An explosion ripped through the warehouse. The walls rattled, the floor juddered under my feet, and my cover of machinery lurched suddenly backwards towards me.

Someone screamed, and metal screeched from overhead. I tilted my head up just in time to watch pieces of the catwalks collapsing across the floor. Smoke filled the air, choking out the breath in my lungs.

Over it all, I registered the boom of Aldo’s deep voice, “How the fuck did he know we’d be here? He knew!”

Another explosion sent debris raining down, and I covered my head and splinters and shards of metal pelted the ground around me. I was too caught up in the sounds, the smells, the fear of it all, to register any pain.

A fresh, clarifying wave of terror washed over me as a tall, lanky form emerged from the smoke in front of me. Marco’s tall frame cut an imposing figure against the chaotic backdrop.

A smug grin twisted his handsome face.

His footsteps made no sound as he crossed the distance between us. As he raised a gun in his hand. “Layla.”

I surged backwards and onto my feet, but there was nowhere to go; my back slammed the wall behind me. Distantly, I registered that my gun was still in my fingers—I lifted it.

Were my hands shaking? Blood dripped from my fingers, but I didn’t know whose it was. “Stay back!”

Marco laughed, the sound cold and mocking. “And what are you going to do, darling? Shoot me?” He took another step forward. “You already proved you don’t have it in you.”

He was right. We’d been here before, my gun aimed at his person, my finger on the trigger. My threats hanging between us.

I hadn’t ended it then.

Why would now be any different?

“Marco.” The deep voice cut through the din, froze Marco in his tracks. Aldo stepped from the fray into the narrow space behind Marco, gun lifted.

Aimed at Marco’s chest.

Aldo’s voice was low, filled with a barely restrained fury.

“Marcello,” Marco said, his grin fading into a sneer of contempt. His gun dropped half an inch. “How chivalrous of you to show up for your damsel.”

“This ends now,” Aldo said, his tone like ice. His aim unwavering.

Marco’s smirk returned, and this time, his gun turned to Aldo. “I agree. One of us dies tonight.”

Fear spiked in my chest, cold and sick.

Time froze as the two men stared each other down. The tension between them was so palpable it was nearly a physical thing, a beast of force and mass.

It wasn’t a matter of who would pull the trigger, but of who’d do it first—faster.

And in that minute, frozen space between heartbeats, I decided. I was done letting other people dictate my life.

The gun cracked.

The bullet exploded from the barrel.

Time slowed to the speed of cool molasses, so I watched smoke curl up in a neat silver trail before the bullet hit home.

Blood burst from a freshly opened wound as that bullet landed.

Aldo stuttered.

Marco staggered.

His hand whipped upward to his chest, clutching at his shirt as crimson bloomed across the white. His eyes bugged wide, and his head snapped towards me. “How could you?”

Another shot rang out.

Marco stumbled back into the wall as the second bullet hit him in the chest. For a moment, he hovered between life and death, bolstered by the cool concrete wall.

Then, his eyes rolled back and his knees buckled.

Marco’s lifeless body toppled to the ground. He lay, motionless, his opened eyes staring into nothingness.

And I stared back, my mouth agape with shock and disbelief. The world had gone fuzzy around me, the sounds and colors blurring into the background. Like it was just me and Marco caught in this moment.

“Layla.” Aldo’s deep voice pulled me slowly back down to earth. It was only then I realized I still held my gun aimed at Marco, like I thought he might still get up.

Might still lunge for me, attack, like the damned cockroach he was. But not this time. My hand slowly lowered, the gun with it.

I pried my gaze from Marco’s lifeless one to meet Aldo’s. “Aldo.”

“You’re okay.” In an instant, he was at my side, his warm arms enfolding me in an embrace, keeping me on my feet when my body felt suddenly leadened.

Around us, the gunshots faded away as Dmitri and Aldo’s men overpowered Marco’s. Zip ties and ropes wrangled up the survivors before they could do any more damage, and the lack of sound rang in my ears.

Or maybe it was the realization, the truth, that clanged through my head—Marco was dead.

His reign of terror had finally come to an end.

The war was over.

“Layla,” Aldo murmured against my hair. “You did it. Not that I ever had any doubt.”

My arms wrapped around him, my hands shaking. Shock and waning adrenaline rendered me numb, like I couldn’t feel any of the things going on around me.

“Of course I did it.” My voice sounded distant, like someone else was speaking. “I had to. For Eli. For us.”

Dmitri approached us, his expression grim but satisfied. He still held his gun, though it was pointed down at the floor. His eyes flitted from me and Aldo to Marco, lifeless, on the floor.

“If I had any doubts as to your heritage,” Dmitri murmured, his eyes sliding back towards me. “I have none now. And of course, I never doubted your resolve.”

The words tangled up the emotions inside me—his pride, Aldo’s, and my own warring with shock and horror for what I’d done. I truly had embraced this life and all that came with it.

I had blood on my hands that would never be washed clean.

And yet, I’d chosen it. I’d chosen this life, the same as I’d chosen the man in my arms.

I lifted my chin to meet my grandfather’s gaze. “We still have one left to find. Marco’s dead, but Aurora’s not going to walk free.”

Aldo nodded against my hair. “I made that mistake already once.”

“Good,” said Dmitri. “Then we’ll make one final move.”

As we left the factory, the first rays of dawn eked through the cracks between skyscrapers to light the world in stray streaks of golden light. And for the first time, the new day felt like hope.