The Blood
1454 Words
LENA POV
My wedding dress was covered in blood. Not mine. My brothers'.
The smell wouldn't leave me. It smells like blood mixed with smoke and gunpowders. Everything smelt like death. It clung to my skin as Salvatore Romano dragged me through the burning cathedral like I already belonged to him.
Everything happened too fast after the gunshots outside exploded. Men started screaming. More bullets shattered through the windows. Guests ran in every direction.
And through all the chaos, Salvatore stayed calm. Terrifyingly calm. Like violence was the only language he understood.
Warm blood splashed across the front of my white dress when one of his men dropped beside us with a bullet in his neck. I flinched violently.
Matteo grabbed my arm harder. "Lena…"
His voice shook. Fear sliced through me instantly.
I turned toward him quickly, grabbing his face between my hands. "Don't look," I whispered desperately.
But it was too late. He'd already seen everything. Luca choking on his own blood. Killian lying dead beside the destroyed wedding cake. I feel a bit nauseous, bodies everywhere and more screaming.
Our entire world collapsing in one night.
And at the center of it stood Salvatore Romano. The ghost my family swore died ten years ago.
Only ghosts weren't supposed to look at people like that. Cold. Controlled. Hungry and too calm.
His hand wrapped around my waist suddenly, dragging me against his chest before another gunshot hit the wall behind us. I sucked in a breath sharply.
"Move," he ordered.
His voice wasn't loud. It didn't need to be. Power rolled off him naturally, dark and heavy enough to suffocate everyone around him.
Charlie barked orders while Salvatore pushed us through the ballroom. His men shot anyone stupid enough to block the exits.
I tried not to look at the bodies. My brothers. At the blood staining my wedding dress.
But grief clawed through me anyway. Sharp. Ugly. Very confusing.
Luca and Killian weren't good men. I knew that better than anyone. Still, they were my brothers. And now they were dead. Killed in front of me by the man dragging me into the night like I belong to him.
Hatred burned hot inside my chest. Pure. Violent. I wanted to claw his face open.
But underneath the hatred, something worse existed. Because when I looked into Salvatore's eyes, I saw pain. Not guilt. No regret. Pain. Deep enough to rot a man from the inside out.
That terrified me more than the bloodshed.
Outside, rain poured heavily over the cathedral steps. Black SUVs waited with engines running. Smoke curled into the dark sky behind us. Sirens screamed somewhere far away.
Salvatore shoved me into the backseat beside Matteo before climbing in after us. The door slammed shut instantly.
And suddenly everything became quiet. Too quiet.
Matteo pressed against my side, trembling badly. I wrapped both arms around him immediately. "It's okay," I whispered.
Lie. Nothing was okay.
Across from us, Salvatore sat silently in the dim light. Staring at us.
Rain slid down the car windows while the convoy sped through the city. Nobody spoke for several long minutes except for Matteo's uneven breathing.
I could feel Salvatore's eyes on me. Heavy. Possessive. Like he was trying to figure me out. I hated it. I hated him.
But my body still reacted every time his gaze touched me. Fear and tension twisted together painfully. Like my instincts recognized danger and leaned toward it anyway. Disgusting.
I turned toward the window.
"You're quiet," he said finally.
His voice was low and smooth. Controlled. Like he didn't just murder people at my wedding.
I swallowed hard before looking back at him. "What exactly do psychopaths expect after k********g someone?"
One of the guards in the front seat shifted uncomfortably. Salvatore didn't. If anything, amusement flickered briefly across his face.
"You talk too much for someone in your position."
"And you kill too easily for someone pretending to be civilized."
Matteo squeezed my hand nervously. I knew I should stop. Men like Salvatore didn't like being challenged.
But anger kept pushing me forward. Maybe because if I stopped talking, I'd break.
His gaze slowly moved over my face. Cold. Careful. Calculating. Then lower. Toward the blood staining my dress.
Something dark flashed in his eyes. "You should change when we arrive."
The comment startled me. Not because of what he said. Because of how he said it. Almost restrained. Like he didn't enjoy seeing blood on me specifically.
I straightened immediately. "Concern doesn't suit you."
His jaw tightened slightly. Interesting. For the first time since he stormed into the ballroom, I saw a c***k in his control. Tiny. But there.
Salvatore leaned back against the leather seat slowly. "You assume I'm concerned."
"Aren't you?"
"No."
Lie. I could feel it. And somehow that made him even more dangerous. Because men like Salvatore probably hated weakness most of all. Especially their own.
Matteo suddenly spoke quietly beside me. "Are you going to kill us?"
The question shattered the tension instantly. I held him tighter.
Salvatore looked at Matteo for a long moment before answering. "If I wanted you dead, you'd already be dead."
Not comforting. Not gentle. Just the truth.
Matteo looked down at his shaking hands. I hated this. Hated how powerless I felt sitting inside this car with a man capable of deciding whether we lived or died without emotion.
But I refused to let him see fear destroy me. I lifted my chin.
"You think k********g us gives you power?"
Salvatore's eyes returned to mine slowly. "It gives me leverage."
"I'm not scared of you."
Another lie. He noticed too. I could tell by the slight tilt of his head.
"You should be."
The way he said it sent heat crawling down my spine against my will. God. Something was wrong with me.
This man murdered my brothers. This man destroyed my life. So why did his voice affect me like that? Maybe trauma really did break people.
Rain continued pounding against the windows while city lights blurred outside. Salvatore stayed silent again.
But his attention never left me. I could feel it constantly. Like his hands were touching places his body hadn't yet. Possessive. Curious. Dangerous.
And the worst part? A small piece of me wanted to understand him too. That was truly terrifying.
I don't know if it was his violence or something beneath his darkness, he looked lonely.
The convoy finally slowed near a private dock almost an hour later. A massive yacht waited at the pier surrounded by armed guards.
Matteo stiffened beside me immediately. "You're taking us on that?"
"Yes," Salvatore answered calmly.
"You're insane."
His mouth curved slightly. "You noticed."
I hated that tiny hint of humor. Hated that it almost made him seem human.
The car door opened. Cold sea air rushed inside instantly.
One of Salvatore's men reached toward me, but Salvatore grabbed his wrist before he touched me. Hard. The movement happened so fast I almost missed it.
"I'll handle her."
The warning in his voice was deadly quiet. The guard immediately stepped back.
Something shifted in the atmosphere. Not protection exactly. Possession. Like nobody else was allowed to touch what belonged to him.
The realization made my stomach twist.
I climbed out of the SUV without waiting for help. Rain soaked through my ruined wedding dress immediately while thunder cracked overhead.
Salvatore stepped beside me moments later. Black suit. Rain dripping down dark hair. Blood still staining his gloves. He looked less like a man and more like the storm itself.
Matteo stayed close behind me as armed guards surrounded us.
I turned sharply toward Salvatore. "What do you want from me?"
His expression didn't change. "Revenge."
"Then kill me and get it over with."
His eyes darkened instantly. A dangerous silence stretched between us.
Then he stepped closer. Too close. Rain slid down his face while he stared at me like he was trying to decide something ugly.
"You think death is the worst thing I can give you?"
My breath caught. There it was again. That terrifying awareness between us. Sharp enough to cut.
I forced myself not to step back. "You're a monster."
Something flickered across his face then. Pain. Gone so quickly I almost imagined it.
Salvatore leaned down slightly, his voice low enough that only I could hear it. "Maybe," he murmured.
His eyes dropped briefly to my mouth before rising again. "But monsters don't usually save people."
My heartbeat stopped. "What?"
Before I could think, Salvatore grabbed my arm suddenly and spun me around hard.
A loud gunshot exploded through the storm.
And the guard standing behind me dropped dead with a bullet between his eyes.
- Writer
