The Mafia’s Dangerous Love

Cornered

Elena’s POV

The alley was too dark, too quiet. My heart was racing as I hugged the dumpster and struggled to catch my breath to try and understand what was going on. Every limb of my body was shaking, my head was spinning and I had no idea what to do.

This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.

Matteo was standing right in front of me his muscles contracted, his pistol leveled at the man who had sneaked up on us. I could barely make them out, the soft glow of the street lamps far off. This frightened me to the point that my muscles went stiff and I could not move.

“You can try that again, De Luca,” the man snarled and advancing towards Matteo, his gun still aimed at him. “You really thought you could escape from us?”

I didn’t know what to do. In the last few hours, my whole world had collapsed on me and now it felt as if I had been plunged into an awful nightmare that could not be real. I did not know who these men were, what they wanted from Matteo or why I was being targeted.

But I knew one thing: They will not even blink an eye before getting rid of him.

Suddenly I felt like screaming, like running away but my legs wouldn’t budge. The words of Matteo were ringing in my head, do not speak and do not move until I say so. But how could I just stand here and watch him get shot?

The man moved forward again; his grin grew broader. “It’s over, Matteo. You’re done. You and your little pet.”

Pet?

His words made me furious and this washed out the fear that he had instilled in me. I wasn’t some expendable piece they could employ against Matteo. I wasn’t going to allow them to murder him.

I don’t know what happened to Matteo, but he changed his position but did not have the chance to speak. Staring at him blankly he just stood there with his hands slightly up as if working out his next course of action. But I could feel him tense, the way his muscles stood upright and rigid, like a cat that was about to leap at any second. He was plotting something, he was just waiting for the right opportunity.

I just hoped it wasn’t too late.

The man pulled back the trigger of the gun the sound of the click rather clear in the dead of the night. “Last chance, De Luca. Come quietly, or I’ll—”

All of a sudden, Matteo attacked.

Everything happened so fast. Moments earlier the man was talking and the next thing Matteo had taken him to the ground in a takedown. The gun went off, the sound resounding in the alley, but Matteo was on him, punching him in the face.

I whistled, hugging the wall and my heart pounded as I watched the two men engage in a fist fight. Matteo was merciless, he moved fast and with great force. It was not just a struggle for life, he was struggling to make a victory out of it.

But then, more footsteps came from the alley. I turned towards the noise and realized that there are two more men approaching me with their weapons pointed at me.

No. This can’t be happening.

Matteo was still struggling with the first man on the ground, he did not see the other coming towards him. They were going to kill him. They were going to shoot him while he was —

“Matteo!” I shrieked, at last, finding my vocal cords.

His head whirled around at the sound of my voice and he looked just in time to see the other men. He blinked once and then sprang away from the man on the floor and groped for his weapon.

But he wasn’t fast enough.

Another shot followed and I cried out, my voice cracking. It took what felt like an eternity for me to watch Matteo sway, his hand on his side where blood stained his shirt. He slid down the wall, his face all contorted in pain, but he did not collapse. He wouldn’t fall.

The men kept coming.

I couldn’t just stand here anymore. I couldn’t just sit back and watch him being murdered. My body acted on its own accord and the next thing I knew, I was headed in his direction.

“Elena, no!” Matteo’s voice was tense, pained and he was trying to hold me back, but I didn’t care. I could not just turn my back on him like this.

I took the gun he had dropped during the scuffle with my hand. It was weighted, it felt awkward in my hand, but I had no other option. I’m not sure I even thought at all – I guess I just went as far as loading and shooting at him.

The sound was deafening.

The man closest to me fell to the ground grabbing his leg and the second man froze with his eyes wide open.

Matteo jerked me back with his arm and at the same time the second man brought up his gun once more. But this time Matteo was quicker, he shot two times within two seconds before the man could even aim. He fell down beside his friend, as though turned to stone.

I was left standing there, not able to breathe, my entire body trembling as the gravity of what just went down finally hit me. I had shot someone. I had actually—

“Elena,” This was the voice of Matteo, and it is always startling when he calls me like this. He was resting against the wall, trying to staunch the flow of blood from the wound at his side, but his gaze was on me. “We need to go. Now.”

I nodded, my knees buckling from under me as I tried to move towards him. He grabbed hold of my arm and started dragging me through the alley; the wail of police cars was getting louder. I could not tell if the attackers were coming for us or the men that we had just beaten, and I didn’t want to wait and find out.

We quickly rushed through the complex of streets, and it seemed to me that Matteo did not let go of my arm – it was so tight. I could hear him panting, each sigh and groan a clear indication he was in pain but he did not pause. He just kept going, taking me with him.

After what seemed like hours of walking and searching, we entered some/Essay Conclusion Finally, after what seemed like hours of randomly wandering around the city in circles, we came across an abandoned small warehouse. Together with the noise, Matteo fell to the floor, pale and short of breath.

I knelt beside him and the shivers ran through my hands as I tentatively ripped his shirt away from the injury. It wasn’t good. He had been shot in the side, and his blood wouldn’t clot.

“You know you have to take me to the hospital,” I replied with my voice shaking.

“No hospitals,” Matteo said roughly, capturing my hand in his to prevent me from moving. “It’s not safe.”

“But you’re hurt—”

“Just help me stop the bleeding,” he managed to say between clenched teeth and with a determined look at me. “We do not have time for anything else.”

I closed my throat, and as he turned to look at me, I just nodded, taking a strip of his shirt and applying it to the wound, but the blood that came out was so much that it was already soaked in the fabric after a few moments.

When I was working, his hand would cup the top of my hand, and lightly grip it, like a comforting squeeze. I raised my eyes to his eyes, where they stayed.

“Thank you,” he managed to say in a very low tone.

“For what?” I said that, my heart racing in my chest.

“For saving me.”

I shook my head, tears came into my eyes. “You saved me first.”

He smiled, but it was a tired smile and he could barely keep his eyelids open. “I didn’t deserve it.”

I wanted to argue, but I could not find any words to say anything and I just stood there. I was loss for words on how to make him see that he was not the monster he portrayed himself to be. That he was something more than the violence and blood he was a part of.

But I could not utter a word, when the sound of footsteps that signaled the arrival of someone approached the warehouse.

My blood ran cold.

We weren’t alone.

I looked towards the door to see that my heart was racing. There was stirrings, movements, the sounds of approaching steps – there was someone who had located us.

“Matteo,” I whispered, and started shaking him awake. He moaned softly and blinked, opening his eyes but he seemed to be in a semi comatose state. We had to move. Now.

I stood, stretching out for the gun which was lying near Matteo and which he had let go off. My hands were trembling when I held it, aiming at the door, looking out for anyone who could see us, begging for them not to see us.

The sounds of footsteps increased, they were getting nearer. My grip tightened on the gun.

And then the door slowly opened – the sound of it creaking loudly filling the air.

A man of considerable height entered the room, and his face was relatively concealed from the light. I froze, my index finger placed on the trigger of the gun.

But then, the figure spoke. His voice low and familiar.

“Elena you have to come with me”

It was Ricardo.