Run or Die
559 Words
The forest outside the safehouse had turned to shadows. Trees swayed under a cruel wind, and in the distance, wolves howled as if mourning the silence inside.
Lena stood by the window, her arms crossed tightly across her chest. Her body ached, but her mind? Restless. She should be terrified. She’d been kidnapped by the enemy, held against her will, and now — kissed by a killer. But fear wasn’t what pulsed through her veins.
It was something far more dangerous.
Desire.
And confusion.
And worse… trust.
She glanced at Matteo, who was crouched by a worn duffel bag, loading weapons and checking bullets. He moved like a soldier — efficient, deadly, controlled. But now she saw it: the subtle shake in his hand, the flicker of guilt in his eyes when he thought she wasn’t looking.
“What are you packing for?” she asked.
He looked up, surprised by the softness in her voice. “We don’t have much time. They know I’ve gone off course.”
“Who’s they?”
He hesitated. “My people. The Riccis.”
Lena stepped forward. “Then why not hand me over and save yourself?”
His eyes darkened. “Because I don’t think they want you for leverage. I think they want you… gone.”
She exhaled sharply, the truth hitting her gut like a blow. “So I’m just a target now.”
“You always were.”
“But you didn’t pull the trigger.”
“I don’t know why.”
She moved closer, so close she could smell the gun oil on his shirt and the faint trace of mint on his breath. “I think you do.”
Silence.
Then he whispered, “Because I see you. Not the name. Not the bloodline. Just… you.”
Lena’s throat tightened. No one had ever seen her as anything but the mafia princess. The spoiled heiress. A weapon in heels.
But now…
A loud crack echoed outside. A shot.
Matteo lunged at her, pushing her down just as the window shattered. Glass sprayed across the room like shards of ice.
“They’ve found us!” he shouted, pulling his gun.
Another shot. The walls trembled.
Lena scrambled behind the couch as Matteo fired out into the trees, his body tense, moving like a ghost. She saw two silhouettes flit through the dark — fast, trained, merciless.
Ricci men.
And they weren’t coming to negotiate.
Matteo fired again, ducked, rolled, then tossed Lena a pistol.
Her fingers closed around it before she could think.
“Can you shoot?” he barked.
She met his eyes, her hand steady. “Try me.”
Another bullet shattered a lamp. The room lit in flickers, like a horror film reel.
“You trust me?” she asked, heart pounding.
“I don’t have a choice.”
Then they moved — together.
Two shadows in the dark. A Ricci and a Moretti. Bound not by blood or loyalty…
But by something far more volatile.
Need.
Bang. Another attacker down.
But more were coming.
The world was on fire.
And still, Matteo turned to her, brushing glass from her cheek as if the chaos didn’t exist.
“If we survive this,” he whispered, “I’m never letting you go.”
Lena didn’t reply.
She just kissed him like it was already goodbye.
- Writer
