Love Like a Loaded Gun
789 Words
They didn’t wait for morning.
The moment Lena wrapped her arms around Matteo in that shattered bedroom, he knew: there would be no tomorrow unless they stole it with blood.
The Moretti estate was heavily guarded. Cameras. Guns. Dogs. But Matteo had snuck in once.
Now, they had to blast their way out.
He handed her a pistol—this one loaded. She met his eyes with a nod, no fear.
Only fire.
“How many?” she asked.
“Too many,” he said. “But we just need five minutes. Get to the car. From there, I’ll take you far from this place.”
She squeezed his hand. “If you die, I die with you.”
“No,” he growled, yanking her close. “You live. Even if I don’t.”
“Then don’t you dare f*cking die.”
They kissed once—quick, hard—and then kicked open the door to war.
---
The hallway erupted in chaos.
Gunfire sang like thunder.
Matteo moved like death with a heartbeat—one bullet, one breath, one kill. Lena stayed behind him, sharp and precise, a bullet slicing past her ear as she dove behind a table and fired back.
A man lunged at her.
She shot him through the throat.
Her hands shook—but only for a second.
Matteo turned. Saw the blood on her. “You okay?”
She gave him a wicked grin. “You made me a killer, Ricci.”
He smirked. “You were born one.”
They reached the main corridor—and hell awaited them.
Giovanni Moretti stood at the top of the stairs.
Dozens of armed men flanked him.
“Well,” he said calmly, “look who crawled back.”
Lena raised her gun.
Giovanni held up a hand. “Put it down, darling. You're still my daughter.”
“No,” she said. “You lost that right the day you left me to rot.”
His face hardened. “You’re choosing him?”
“I’m choosing freedom.”
Matteo stepped forward. “Get out of our way.”
Giovanni chuckled darkly. “You’re brave. But not smart. This house will eat you alive.”
“Then I’ll tear it down, brick by f*cking brick.”
He fired the first shot.
Everything exploded.
Lena ran, ducked behind the marble pillar, shooting wildly. Matteo covered her, dropping two men, then three. Blood sprayed the walls.
Giovanni fled upstairs.
Matteo grabbed Lena’s hand. “Go! I’ll handle him.”
“No!”
“Lena—he’s mine.”
She hesitated.
Then nodded.
“Come back,” she whispered.
He kissed her hard.
“I will.”
---
Matteo stormed the stairs, heart roaring, memories slashing through him.
The beatings.
The orders.
The lies.
And now—the end.
He found Giovanni in his office, reloading behind a grand oak desk.
Matteo kicked the door open.
“No more kings,” he said, raising his gun.
Giovanni fired first.
Matteo dodged—barely—and returned fire. The shot hit Giovanni’s leg. He screamed, fell.
“Coward,” the old man spat, crawling toward the drawer.
Matteo kicked it shut.
“No,” he said coldly. “Just done obeying monsters.”
He aimed at Giovanni’s heart.
The old man smiled.
“You think you’ll survive this?”
“I don’t care.”
And pulled the trigger.
One shot.
Silence.
And then Matteo turned.
Ran.
---
Outside, Lena waited in the car—engine running, blood on her sleeve.
The estate burned behind her.
When Matteo burst through the gates, limping, face torn but alive—
She cried.
Slammed the door open.
He collapsed into the seat beside her.
“You did it,” she whispered.
“No,” he groaned. “We did.”
She kissed him through the blood.
Then hit the gas.
---
They drove for hours.
Mountains faded. Cities blurred. Borders disappeared.
By the time they reached the coast, the sky was soft with dawn.
A small boat waited at the dock—arranged by Matteo’s only remaining ally.
Lena helped him on board, wrapped his wounds, pressed kisses to every inch of broken skin.
“You still love me?” he murmured.
She smiled, eyes shining.
“Always. Even when you’re bleeding.”
“And you trust me?”
“I trust you more than I trust the sea.”
He pulled her close.
And as the boat rocked them into the horizon, she whispered against his lips:
“We’re not free. Not yet.”
“But we’re alive.”
“And I love you more than my past.”
He smiled.
Then kissed her like the future was theirs to burn.
- Writer
