He grabbed my hand.
His life was in constant danger, it seemed. Yet Alessio moved with a calm urgency that left no room for hesitation.
I stumbled after him as he pulled me toward the back of the shattered room, his grip firm but not painful.
“Keep low,” he ordered, his voice sharp over the chaos.
Shards of glass crunched underfoot as we crouched behind an overturned table.
Gunfire cracked through the air, ricocheting off walls and splintering furniture. The screams of Silvio’s men mixed with barked orders, but all I could focus on was the heat of Alessio’s body pressed against mine.
“They’re trying to pin us down,” Alessio muttered, peeking over the edge of the table.
“Why is this happening?” I whispered, my voice trembling despite my efforts to stay calm.
“Not now, Bella,” he sa
