CHAPTER 7: THE DAY THE DEVIL BLEEDS
2099 Words
The sound of gunfire filled the corridor like a storm ripping through metal. The twin shots collided in the air, echoing so violently it felt as though the walls themselves recoiled. My hearing rang with a sharp buzzing, and for a second the entire world blurred. The smoke from the broken door curled upward, mingling with the dust that drifted from the trembling ceiling. My breath caught at the exact moment my knees buckled.
I didn’t know which of them had been hit.
I didn’t know who had fallen.
All I could see through the haze was Dante’s silhouette illuminated by the harsh headlights from outside. His stance was tense and unforgiving, his shoulders squared as he advanced into the corridor. Lucia, several feet away, staggered slightly, gripping her arm where a thin line of crimson spread down her pale skin. A glint of satisfaction flickered in Dante’s eyes, but it vanished the moment his gaze found me.
“You. Come to me,” he said, voice low and dangerous, the kind of tone that didn’t ask for obedience so much as drew it from instinct.
Before I could take a step, Lucia lifted her gun again and fired. Dante jerked back, barely avoiding the bullet. The shot ricocheted off the metal pipes above, sending sparks raining down. The entire hallway erupted with chaos.
Matteo, despite the wound in his shoulder, dragged himself across the floor, reaching for his fallen gun. His hand trembled as he pushed himself upright, and he cursed under his breath, his voice strained with pain. The scent of gunpowder, rust, damp concrete, and blood flooded my lungs until breathing felt like swallowing smoke.
Lucia’s red lips curled into a vicious smile as she lifted her weapon toward Dante again. “You came running like the little puppet I trained you to be,” she purred. “I knew you still cared enough to bleed for her.”
Dante’s reply was ice. “I came because I finish what I should have finished years ago.”
His words were calm, but his eyes, dark and narrowed, burned with something far sharper than hatred. It was betrayal. Fear. A grief that looked so deeply buried it had begun to rot inside him.
Lucia’s expression twisted. “You buried me alive. Did you expect love to survive that?”
Dante didn’t flinch. “I did what needed to be done. You chose your path.”
“And you chose your new bride,” Lucia snapped. “How poetic that she will witness your last breath.”
She turned her gun back on me so quickly I didn’t have time to react.
The muzzle flashed.
A sharp cry ripped from my throat as Dante hurled himself across the corridor, slamming into me and dragging me to the floor. His weight crashed over mine, pinning me beneath him as a bullet tore into the wall behind us. My heart slammed violently against my chest. Pain flared along my ribs where I had been wounded earlier, but Dante pressed me down firmly, shielding me with his body.
“Are you hurt? Answer me,” he demanded, his voice thick with panic he couldn’t hide.
“I’m fine,” I whispered, even though pain radiated through my entire torso. “Dante… you shouldn’t have”
“I will always choose to protect you,” he said, and in his voice there was something raw, fierce, and frightening.
Before he could move again, another bullet shattered the concrete near his head. He cursed quietly, rolled sideways, and lifted his gun toward Lucia. She ducked behind a support pillar, firing back as she retreated up the stairs. Her laughter echoed along the corridor, high and hollow.
“You can’t stop this, Dante,” she called out. “You can’t stop me. And you cannot protect a woman who doesn’t even know the truth about you.”
The air went rigid.
Dante’s jaw clenched.
He fired twice, forcing Lucia to retreat further, but her final words lingered like smoke curling around the both of us.
I felt Dante’s muscles tighten against me. His breath brushed my cheek. His heart thundered so loudly I felt it through his chest.
I swallowed, my throat tight. “What truth? Dante… what is she talking about?”
His gaze locked onto mine, dark and unreadable, but for the briefest moment something like guilt flashed across his eyes before he pushed it down.
“No distractions,” he muttered. “Not here. Not now.”
He shifted his weight and helped me sit up slowly, slipping an arm around me when I winced. His touch was unexpectedly gentle, his fingers warm against my trembling body. The proximity ignited something inside me that could not be smothered by fear alone. His scent, a mixture of smoke, sweat, and the spicy cologne he always wore, wrapped around me like a spell.
Matteo groaned from the wall, clutching his shoulder. “Boss… you need to move. More Bianchi men are coming. I heard them upstairs.”
Dante’s head snapped in his direction. “You helped her escape. But you also protected her.” His voice softened just a fraction. “I owe you for that.”
“Save it,” Matteo rasped. “Get out before Lucia locks the entire compound.”
Dante rose, gripping my hand firmly and pulling me up with him. My legs trembled, but he steadied me with a hand against my waist. A warm shiver ran through me as his thumb brushed my side in a way that felt more intimate than it should have. I leaned into him without meaning to, my body responding to his closeness instinctively.
He brushed a lock of hair away from my face, his touch lingering. “Keep your hand on me. If you fall behind, you will die.”
The words were brutal, but the tenderness in his eyes was unmistakable.
We moved down the corridor, leaving Matteo behind only after Dante placed a spare gun in his uninjured hand. The hallway ahead was narrow and dark. Pipes rattled overhead, and the vibrations of hurried footsteps grew louder above us.
“They are coming,” Dante said, tightening his grip on my hand. “Stay behind me.”
We reached a split in the corridor. The right side descended into deeper darkness. The left led toward a dim staircase. Before Dante could decide which route to take, a sharp metallic clang echoed from above.
Then a voice flooded the compound, broadcast through a distorted speaker.
“Run, Dante,” Lucia sang, her tone haunting and mocking. “Chase me. Catch me. Bleed for me if you must. But you will die here tonight, and she will watch every second of it.”
Dante’s jaw tightened until the muscles in his neck strained.
I took a shaky breath. “She’s unhinged. She won’t stop.”
“She never did,” Dante said quietly. “That’s why I put her in the ground.”
His hand trembled for a split second as he said it.
Not out of fear. Out of memory.
Before I could ask another question, the lights along the ceiling flickered violently, then burst, plunging us into darkness. The only illumination came from the emergency red bulbs lining the walls. Their faint glow cast long shadows across Dante’s face, highlighting the sharp lines of his jaw and the intensity in his eyes.
He lifted my chin with one finger. “I need you to trust me.”
“I do,” I whispered.
His lips almost brushed mine as he leaned in. The tension between us pulled tighter, hotter, as if the danger around us amplified every forbidden spark that had been building for days.
But before anything happened, a scream tore through the building.
A man’s scream.
Followed by three gunshots.
Followed by silence.
Dante’s eyes narrowed. “She’s started killing her own men. That means she is spiraling.”
He grabbed my hand again. “Move. Now.”
We ran.
The floor vibrated under our feet as we reached the staircase. Smoke drifted down the steps, making my eyes water. Halfway up, the sound of metal scraping echoed from above.
Dante froze, pulling me against him.
Lucia appeared at the top of the stairs, framed in the red emergency lights like a specter. Her black hair clung to her face, her eyes wild, her smile sharp and broken. She held two guns now, one in each hand.
Her voice was quiet, almost gentle. “You took everything from me, Dante. Now I will take everything from you.”
Before either of us could react, she lifted her gun.
But she didn’t aim at Dante.
She aimed at the ceiling above him.
And fired.
The old support beams shuddered. Cracks zigzagged across the concrete. Dust exploded into the air. The entire stairwell groaned.
“Dante,” I whispered, horror creeping into my voice, “she’s going to collapse it.”
“She wants to bury us,” he growled.
Lucia’s smile widened. “Just like you buried me.”
Dante fired at her, but she darted backward out of sight. A sudden rumble tore through the floor. Pieces of concrete rained down, striking the steps where we stood. Dante wrapped an arm around me and pulled me against his chest.
The ground shook again.
The ceiling began to split.
Dante dragged me backwards, but the staircase gave a violent lurch. The entire structure trembled beneath us. My heart slammed into my ribs.
“Dante,” I choked out, “we need to move.”
He lifted his gun and fired at the supports above, trying to redirect the collapse, but it was too late. The railing shattered. The top half of the staircase plunged downward, crashing in a deafening roar of metal and stone.
I let out a scream, grabbing desperately onto Dante as the steps crumbled under our feet.
The world tilted violently.
Dante grabbed me, pulling me against him as we fell.
Dust exploded around us.
The stairwell collapsed.
And then everything went black.
My ears rang with a high, piercing whine. My body felt weightless, suspended in a haze of dust and crushing darkness. I tried to open my eyes, but everything was blurred, the world reduced to vague shapes and muffled echoes.
A warm hand cupped my cheek. A voice reached me through the fog, low and strained.
“Stay awake,” Dante whispered. “Look at me.”
I forced my eyes open.
He was lying partially over me, shielding me from the majority of the debris. His face was streaked with ash, his breath uneven, his expression tight with pain. A gash cut across his eyebrow, trickling blood down his cheek.
But his eyes, dark and desperate, were locked on mine.
“You are alive,” he said, almost to himself. “Good.”
I swallowed, tasting dust. “Are you hurt?”
“No. Focus on yourself. Breathe slowly.”
The stairwell had collapsed into a jagged mess of stone and twisted metal. We were trapped beneath it. No open space, no escape, only a narrow pocket formed where Dante had thrown himself over me.
Something shifted above us, a slab of concrete sliding dangerously.
Dante braced his arm against it. The muscles in his arms strained as he pushed it back.
“If this drops,” he murmured, his voice steady despite the danger, “it will crush us.”
I reached up and touched his face with trembling fingers. “Why did you come for me?”
His jaw clenched. “Because I always will.”
The answer sent heat rushing through my chest, even in the darkness, even as the world threatened to collapse around us.
His forehead touched mine.
His breath mingled with mine.
For a moment, the world narrowed to just us.
Then the ground beneath us shook again.
A slow, deliberate pair of footsteps approached from somewhere above the rubble.
Lucia's voice drifted down, soft and taunting.
“Dante. Can you hear me?”
Dante’s grip tightened protectively.
She laughed, the sound cold and triumphant.
“I told you this night would end exactly the way it was meant to.”
Her silhouette appeared faintly through the dust, standing on top of the rubble, her gun in hand, aimed downward.
Dante shifted, preparing to shield me completely.
Lucia sighed, her voice dripping with venom.
“Say goodbye to your bride.”
The trigger clicked.
The gun fired.
And the world went silent.
To be continued…
- Writer
