ISABELLA

Chapter 50

Isabella’s pov

I sat frozen in the back seat, my hands clenched so tightly in my lap that my nails dug into my palms. Matteo had shoved me inside so fast I barely understood what was happening—only that gunfire still cracked inside the restaurant, and Leo was in there.

My chest rose and fell in sharp, uneven breaths. I pressed my palm against the cool glass, whispering under my breath, Please be okay, Leo… please…

A man burst through the doors, moving fast, his eyes searching wildly. When they landed on me, my heart dropped to the floor. His mouth curved into a sick smile, and before I could even move, he was sprinting toward the car.

“No, no, no…” I whispered, my voice trembling. My fingers fumbled for the lock—even though I knew Matteo had already secured it. Still, panic made me tug at it like a fool.

He yanked at the handle. The door didn’t budge. His face twisted in frustration, then rage. He slammed his fist against the window so hard the sound cracked through me.

I screamed.

“Open the door, bella!” His voice was thick with an accent, mocking, taunting. He tried again, both hands gripping the handle, shaking it violently.

My throat went dry, my body pressed back against the leather seat. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.

Then—he pulled something from his jacket. A steel rod, heavy, jagged at the edge. My blood ran cold.

No, no, no…

He raised it high and slammed it against the glass. A sharp, brutal clang rang out, making me flinch and cover my ears. But the window didn’t shatter—it didn’t even crack.

His face contorted in fury. He struck again, harder this time. The sound vibrated through my bones. I cried out, curling into myself, praying the glass would hold.

He kept hitting it, over and over, like a predator wearing down prey. Each slam was a promise of what he’d do if he got inside. My hands shook as tears burned my eyes.

Finally, he stopped, panting, sweat dripping down his forehead. He leaned in close, pressing his face to the glass, so near I could see the veins in his eyes.

“You think this car can save you, princess?” he sneered, his breath fogging the glass. “I’ll get you. One way or another.”

My entire body trembled. I wanted to scream, to fight, to do something. But all I could do was pray for Matteo, pray for Leo, pray that someone—anyone—would stop him before he found another way in.

I thought my mind was playing tricks on me.

A thin white line spiderwebbed across the corner of the window where the man’s rod had struck. My breath caught in my throat. No… no, please no.

He saw it too. His lips curled into a vicious grin.

“Ahhh… finally,” he hissed, raising the rod again.

I scrambled across the seat, my hands pressing against the opposite door, my heart slamming against my ribs so hard it hurt. I wanted to run, to get out, but I was trapped in a cage that was failing me.

The next blow landed with a deafening crack. More lines branched out, the glass groaning under the pressure. My scream tore from my throat before I could hold it back.

Leo… Matteo… somebody… please!

Another slam. The sound of shattering—tiny shards breaking away at the edges. He roared with triumph, sweat dripping down his temple as he swung again.

The window exploded.

Shards of glass rained across the seat, cutting into my arm and legs. I screamed, scrambling backward, but his hand shot through the jagged opening like a snake, clamping onto my wrist so tightly I thought the bone would snap.

“Finally,” he rasped, breathless with victory.

“No! Let me go!” I kicked wildly, my heel slamming against the seat, nails clawing at his skin. But he was stronger, his other hand forcing its way inside, gripping my waist as he yanked me toward the broken window.

Terror choked me. The smell of sweat and blood filled my nose. The edge of the glass scraped my shoulder as he pulled me closer. My voice cracked with the scream I couldn’t hold back.

And then—

“DROP HER!”

The shout tore across the night, deep and furious.

The Russian froze.

Gunfire erupted—not inside the building… outside. A rain of bullets hit the ground near the car, sending sparks flying. The Russian cursed and ducked, releasing me just long enough for me to collapse back into the seat, clutching my bleeding wrist.

Men. Armed. Moving with precision. And at their head—Riccardo.

My breath caught. Riccardo?!

He stormed forward, gun raised, eyes like fire as he locked onto the man dragging me. The Russians scrambled, realizing too late they had walked into another ambush.

“Get your filthy hands off her before I blow them off,” Riccardo snarled in Italian, his men surrounding the car, guns drawn, lasers pinning targets in the shadows.

The Russian hesitated, still clutching the edge of the window like he wasn’t ready to give up.

Riccardo didn’t hesitate. Bang! The bullet slammed into the ground inches from the man’s hand.

The Russian flinched.

Riccardo’s men closed in immediately, shoving him against the car with brutal force while another helped pull me away from the shattered window. My hands were shaking, my chest heaving as relief and confusion tangled inside me.

Riccardo’s eyes finally met mine. Dark. Intense. Protective.

“You’re safe now,” he said lowly, almost a growl. “Not a damn soul is laying a hand on you while I’m here.”

But my chest was tight, my heart hammering with only one thought—Leo.

I didn’t care about the blood on my arm, or the shards of glass digging into my dress. I shoved past Riccardo’s steadying touch, stumbling out of the car.

“Isabella—!” he called, but I was already running.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

“LEO!” My scream cut through the smoke and gunfire.

Everything stilled.

Heads turned. Matteo’s eyes widened from across the field as he fired at one of the Russians. Riccardo swore under his breath, sprinting after me. Even Leo—blood on his shirt, his gun still raised—froze at the sound of my voice. His gaze snapped to me, wild and desperate, and the moment his eyes met mine, I felt the world tilt back into place.

But then—

Slow motion.

One of the Russians left standing turned his gun, his gaze locking on me. The metal gleamed under the flickering light. His finger tightened on the trigger.

I gasped, too frozen to move, my feet rooted in fear.

Leo didn’t hesitate.

“ISABELLA!” he roared.

He dropped his gun, sprinting across the chaos with everything in him. And just as the shot cracked—Bang!—he lunged forward, arms wrapping around me, pulling me against his chest.

The impact knocked the breath out of me. My scream tore from my throat as I felt him jerk against me. His body stiffened.

The bullet had found its mark.

Leo staggered, shielding me with his entire body.

My eyes went wide as I saw the crimson stain blooming across his white shirt, spreading far too quickly.

“No… no, no, no…” I clutched him, my hands pressing desperately against the wound, my vision blurring with tears.

“ISABELLA, MOVE!” Matteo’s voice thundered.

He and two other guards stormed forward, their shots quick and merciless. Bang. Bang. The Russians dropped instantly, their bodies hitting the ground in silence. Smoke still curled from Matteo’s gun as he ran toward us, Riccardo covering from the other side.

But I couldn’t hear anything anymore.

All I could feel was Leo in my arms, his blood warm against my hands, his face pale but his eyes—those fierce, unyielding eyes—locked on mine.

“You’re… safe…” he rasped, a faint, pained smile curling at the edge of his lips.

“Don’t you dare say that,” I sobbed, cradling his face. “You’re going to be fine. Do you hear me? You’re going to be fine, Leo. Stay with me. Stay with me.”

Leo’s weight grew heavier against me, and before I could brace myself, his knees buckled.

“Leo!” I screamed as his body slumped, dragging me down with him. I hit the cold marble floor hard, but I didn’t care—I had him in my arms.

Blood soaked through my gown, warm and terrifying, and his head rolled weakly to the side. His eyes, still open, were losing that sharp fire I always saw in him.

“No, no, no!” I shook him, tears spilling down my cheeks in hot rivers. My hands pressed desperately against the wound on his back, but the blood wouldn’t stop. It just kept coming, staining my skin, staining him.

“Leo, please! Please stay with me!” My voice cracked, breaking into a sob. “Don’t leave me—don’t you dare leave me!”

Around us, everything blurred. I could hear Matteo barking orders, Riccardo cursing under his breath, the pounding of boots as the guards secured the area. But for me—there was nothing. Just the sound of Leo’s shallow breathing, the way his chest hitched painfully with every breath.

He coughed, blood staining his lips. My heart shattered.

“Isabella…” His voice was hoarse, broken. He tried to lift a hand toward me, but it trembled halfway before falling weakly. “Don’t… cry…”

That only made the tears fall harder. I gripped his hand, pressing it against my heart. “I can’t—how can I not cry? You—you took a bullet for me, Leo. Why? Why would you do that?”

His lips curled in the faintest smile. “Because… sei la mia vita…” (you are my life).

And then his eyes fluttered shut.

“NO!” My scream tore through the building. I shook him, shaking so hard my whole body hurt. “Wake up, Leo! Please, don’t do this to me—don’t you dare leave me here alone!”

Matteo dropped beside us, his face grim, trying to pry me back. “Isabella—let me—”

“No!” I sobbed, clutching Leo tighter against me, as if I could keep him alive by sheer force of will. “Don’t take him from me!”

But Matteo’s voice was sharp, commanding. “We’re losing him! We have to move now! get the car ready!”

I pressed my forehead against Leo’s, tears dripping onto his blood-stained skin. My whole body shook as I whispered, “Please, Leo… fight. Fight for me. Don’t let this be the end.”

And in that moment I knew I loved him so much.

I felt him go limp in my arms.

The sob that ripped from my chest was raw, broken—louder than any gunshot.