The Mafia's Don Plus Size Bride

DIFFERENT KINDS OF FIRE

The door flew open, and I scrambled backward across the mattress, pulling the top sheet with me to furiously wipe the sticky mess off my inner thighs. My skin was still flushed, my chest heaving, and my dress completely ruined.

A man stepped into the room, holding a silenced pistol. I did not recognize him. He was tall, wearing a clean gray suit, with disheveled hair and a sharp jawline. He paused in the doorway, his eyes taking in my exposed chest, the rucked up dress, and the disheveled bed.

"I.... I what are you...." I tried to speak, clutching the sheet against my bare breasts.

"I am Marcus," he said, his voice completely calm despite the chaos downstairs. "Lorenzo's personal assistant. We are under attack by a rival....., gang. I need to take you to the shelter right now."

"An attack?" I stammered, my heart slamming against my ribs. "Where is Lia... I mean Lorenzo?"

"Handling it," Marcus replied smoothly. He looked at my bare shoulders, then down at my trembling legs. He did not sneer or judge. Instead, his eyes softened, offering a warm, knowing look that caught me completely off guard. He reached up, unbuttoned his dark suit jacket, and slid it off his shoulders. "Here. Put this on."

I took the jacket, wrapping the heavy fabric around my upper body and buttoning it over my wet, exposed skin. "Thank you."

"Can you walk?" he asked, stepping back into the corridor.

"I think so," I said, forcing my swollen foot onto the cold floor.

Two more gunshots echoed from the lower levels, the sharp cracks vibrating right through the drywall. I followed Marcus down the hallway, every step on my bad foot sending a dull ache up my leg. We reached the underground parking garage, surrounded by dark luxury cars. Marcus walked straight toward a blank concrete wall in the back, reached into a small crevice, and pressed a hidden panel.

A door slid open with a low hiss, revealing a dark flight of concrete stairs leading downward.

"In here," Marcus instructed, motioning for me to go first.

I stepped into the cold stairwell, holding his jacket tight around my chest. We descended two flights until we reached a thick steel door. Marcus tapped a code into a electronic keypad, and the door unlocked with a heavy click.

The room inside was bright, spotless, and furnished like a high end apartment. Sitting on a sofa in the center of the room was Camila. She was dressed in tight, black leather pants and a matching leather, looking like a biker or maybe an hit woman. A heavy handgun sat on the glass coffee table right next to her.

Camila looked up, saw me, and immediately rolled her eyes with an exaggerated sigh. "Are you serious, Marcus? You brought the farm animal down here too?"

"The Don gave strict instructions to secure Miss Kate first," Marcus said, his tone polite but firm as he closed the heavy steel door behind us.

"She is a nobody," Camila spat, standing up and crossing her arms over her leather clad chest. "Why are we wasting precious space in the primary safe room for a servant or a s*x worker?"

"If the Don did not care about her safety, he would not have authorized her access to this room, Mrs Moretti," Marcus countered smoothly. "Not even the regular security detail knows this vault exists."

Camila's green eyes flashed with irritation. "Do not lecture me on my husband's choices, Marcus."

She shot me a lethal glare. I flinched, instinctively taking two steps back into the far corner of the room, keeping my back pressed against the wall. Marcus noticed my reaction and offered a small, reassuring nod, staying close by.

Before anyone could say another word, the side door opened.

Lorenzo stepped inside. No one had heard him approach. His white shirt was stained with dark blood around the cuffs, his tie was gone, and his eyes were pitch black with adrenaline. His gaze swept the room, skipping right past Camila and landing directly on me.

His eyes dragged slowly down my body, resting on the oversized gray suit jacket wrapped around my upper body.

"Why are you wearing that jacket?" Lorenzo asked, his voice icy and low.

I stuttered, my throat catching. "I... he gave it to me. I did not have anything on."

Camila let out a short, mocking laugh from the sofa, shooting Marcus a vicious look. "Look at that, Marcus, beautiful way to care don't you think"

Lorenzo ignored his wife completely. He stared at me, his jaw clenching tightly. "Take it off."

"Lorenzo, it's cold in here and those straps won't cut it" Marcus spoke up gently.

"Take it off, Kate," Lorenzo repeated, his tone leaving zero room for debate.

My hands trembled as I unbuttoned Marcus's jacket and handed it back to him. The cool air of the underground shelter hit my bare shoulders, making me shiver violently. I hugged my arms across my body, trying to hide my chest.

Lorenzo eyed me up and down, his hard expression unreadable. He turned to his assistant. "Marcus, go upstairs. Take care of the police and get rid of the bodies

"Yes sir" Marcus replied casually

"And Marcus..."

"Don"

"You follow instructions strictly I never asked you to help Kate with anything else understood?" Lorenzo continued before Marcus could answer "and clean up the mess in the main driveway."

"Yes, Don Moretti," Marcus said, taking his jacket and walking out the steel door.

Once Marcus was gone, Lorenzo unbuttoned his own black suit jacket, pulled it off, and tossed it straight at my face. I caught it in my arms, startled.

"Put it on," he ordered flatly.

I looked at the heavy, tailored fabric, then looked at him. "I do not need your..."

"Put it on Kate," he snapped, his voice sharp enough to cut glass.

I swallowed my pride and pulled his jacket over my shoulders. It smelled like his expensive cologne and faint gunpowder. It was warm, heavy, and swallowed my frame completely.

Lorenzo walked over to a supply cabinet against the wall, pulled out a thick wool blanket, and tossed it onto my lap as I sank onto a small wooden stool in the corner. I wrapped the blanket over his jacket, keeping my eyes glued to the floor.

Another series of heavy gunshots echoed faintly through the thick ceiling above us. One sharp crack, followed immediately by three rapid bursts.

Lorenzo did not even flinch. He walked over to a weapon rack on the wall, grabbed a sleek black rifle, and checked the chamber with a practiced click. He walked over to Camila and handed the heavy weapon straight to her.

"Watch the door," Lorenzo told her coldly. "Look after Kate."

Camila accepted the rifle, a slow, terrifying smile spreading across her lips. "With my life, darling."

Lorenzo turned toward the exit. Before he opened the door, his eyes drifted back to my corner one last time. His face was stoic, his eyes unreadable, but his voice carried a strange, heavy weight when he spoke.

"Stay in this corner," Lorenzo said, his gaze holding mine for a brief second. "Everything is going to be fine."

He stepped out into the dark hallway, his heavy footsteps fading rapidly down the corridor until the door clicked shut, leaving us in total silence.

Camila watched the door close. The sweet expression on her face vanished in an instant, replaced by a cold, twisted short laugh that echoed off the concrete walls.

She turned slowly toward my corner. She raised the heavy rifle, resting the stock against her shoulder, and pointed the barrel straight at my forehead.

The sharp click of the safety pin disengaging rang out clearly in the quiet room.