The Butcher’s Bride

The Butcher's Promise

The ceiling came down in a roar of steel, concrete, and fire.

Alessio dragged Valentina backward as the passage split apart between her and Roman.

“Roman!”

Dust swallowed him.

The impact threw Valentina to the floor. Her gun skidded beneath a row of cages. The lights died, and the basement filled with screams.

Alessio covered her head as pieces of concrete hammered the ground around them.

Then everything stopped.

For one terrible second, there was only darkness.

Valentina shoved Alessio away.

“Roman!”

No answer.

The freezer door stood behind a wall of collapsed debris. Smoke poured through the cracks. The red light above the bomb had vanished.

So had Roman.

Valentina crawled toward the rubble.

Alessio caught her around the waist.

“We have to move.”

“Let go of me.”

“The building is still collapsing.”

“He is back there.”

“And he ordered me to get you out.”

Valentina drove her elbow into his ribs.

Alessio grunted but did not release her.

She struck him again.

“I said let go.”

A deep crack rolled through the ceiling.

One of the soldiers shouted from the stairwell.

“Now!”

Alessio lifted Valentina off the ground and carried her toward the stairs while she fought him.

“I will kill you,” she said.

“Get in line.”

The remaining captives crowded ahead of them. Elena helped the woman carrying the little girl while two soldiers supported those who could not walk.

Valentina twisted to look back.

Nothing moved beyond the rubble.

No hand.

No shadow.

No Roman.

They reached the rendering room as the far wall buckled inward.

Fire raced across the ceiling.

“Out the windows!” Alessio shouted.

The soldiers smashed away the remaining glass and helped the women through.

Valentina landed in the drainage yard outside.

Cold night air struck her face.

She turned immediately toward the building.

The old slaughterhouse groaned like a dying animal.

Flames climbed from the upper windows. Smoke rolled into the sky, black against the orange glow.

Alessio came through behind her.

“Keep moving.”

Valentina shoved him.

“You left him.”

“I followed his order.”

“You left him.”

“He stayed for the boy.”

“And you should have stayed for him.”

Alessio grabbed her shoulders.

“If I stayed, you would be dead too.”

“I do not care.”

His expression hardened.

“He does.”

The words stopped her.

Alessio lowered his voice.

“Roman knew exactly what he was doing. He chose you.”

“No. He chose the child.”

“He chose both.”

The slaughterhouse roof collapsed.

A wave of heat rolled across the yard.

Valentina tore free and ran toward the building.

Two soldiers caught her before she reached the loading dock.

She fought them like an animal.

“Let me go!”

“Boss’s orders,” one said.

“He is not here to give orders!”

A sound came from beneath the yard.

Three knocks.

A pause.

Two more.

Everyone froze.

Valentina stopped fighting.

The sound came again.

Not from the slaughterhouse.

From a rusted drainage grate near the eastern wall.

“Move it,” Valentina said.

The soldiers dragged the grate aside.

A narrow concrete channel ran beneath the yard.

Smoke spilled from it.

Then a small hand appeared.

Valentina dropped to her knees.

“Daniel?”

A boy crawled into the light.

His face was streaked with soot. Blood ran from a cut above his eyebrow, but he was alive.

Valentina pulled him into her arms.

“Where is Roman?”

Daniel coughed.

“The big man pushed me through.”

“Is he behind you?”

The boy shook his head.

“The fire came down.”

Valentina looked into the channel.

Black smoke filled it.

“Roman!”

A faint scrape answered.

Then silence.

Alessio reached for her.

She pushed Daniel into his arms and climbed into the drainage channel.

“Valentina!”

She ignored him.

The tunnel was barely wide enough to crawl through. Broken concrete tore her knees and palms. Smoke burned her lungs.

“Roman!”

Something moved ahead.

She crawled faster.

A hand lay across the channel floor.

Large.

Blood-covered.

Roman.

Valentina reached him and grabbed his wrist.

His pulse was weak but present.

“Roman, open your eyes.”

He did not move.

Part of the concrete ceiling had collapsed across his legs. His shirt was burned along one side, and blood coated his temple.

Valentina pressed her hands against the slab.

It did not move.

“Alessio!”

Footsteps and curses echoed behind her.

Alessio crawled into the tunnel with two soldiers.

Together, they lifted the broken concrete enough to drag Roman free.

He made no sound.

That frightened Valentina more than the blood.

They pulled him through the drainage channel and into the yard.

The women had been moved toward the rail embankment. Daniel sat beside Elena beneath a soldier’s coat.

Valentina knelt beside Roman.

“Wake up.”

His chest rose shallowly.

She touched his face.

“Roman.”

Nothing.

Alessio checked his neck.

“He has a pulse.”

“Then why isn’t he waking up?”

“He took half a building on top of him.”

“Fix him.”

“I am not a doctor.”

“You are his second. Fix him.”

Sirens sounded in the distance.

Alessio looked toward the road.

“We cannot be here when police arrive.”

“I’m not leaving him.”

“We are taking him with us.”

Two soldiers lifted Roman onto a piece of sheet metal and carried him toward the waiting vehicles beyond the rail line.

Valentina stayed beside him.

Daniel ran after them.

“Lady?”

She turned.

The boy held Roman’s knife in both hands.

“He told me to give you this.”

Valentina accepted it.

The handle was warm from the fire.

“What did he say?”

Daniel looked at Roman.

“He said the Butcher keeps his promises.”

Her throat closed.

“What promise?”

“That he would get me out.”

Valentina gripped the knife.

Roman had kept the promise.

Even when it might have killed him.

They loaded Roman into the rear of an armored SUV.

Valentina climbed in beside him. Alessio entered across from her and pressed gauze against the wound at Roman’s temple.

“His breathing is too slow,” Valentina said.

“He needs his surgeon.”

“Then drive.”

The convoy tore away from the slaughterhouse as fire consumed what remained.

Valentina held Roman’s hand.

He had touched her with that hand less than an hour ago. Wiped blood from her cheek. Offered marriage as though it were a command.

Now his fingers were cold.

She pressed them between both of hers.

“You are not allowed to die.”

Alessio looked at her.

Valentina ignored him.

“You do not get to drag me into your war, declare that I belong to you, and then leave before I can decide whether I hate you.”

Roman did not respond.

She leaned closer.

“You promised me an army.”

His lashes moved.

Valentina stopped breathing.

“Roman?”

His eyes opened slightly.

Dark.

Unfocused.

“You talk too much,” he whispered.

Relief hit her so hard it became anger.

She slapped his uninjured shoulder.

Roman groaned.

Alessio stared at her.

“Did you just hit him?”

“He deserved it.”

Roman’s mouth moved faintly.

“A little harder next time.”

Valentina’s eyes burned.

She refused to cry.

“You almost died.”

“I noticed.”

“Stop saying that.”

“Stop telling me obvious things.”

His eyes drifted shut again.

Valentina gripped his hand harder.

“Stay awake.”

“No.”

“That is an order.”

One eye opened.

Roman looked at her with exhausted amusement.

“You finally admit you want to command me.”

“I want you conscious.”

“Almost the same thing.”

Alessio checked the bandage around Roman’s shoulder.

“It reopened.”

Roman ignored him.

“The women?”

“Nine women and one child recovered,” Valentina said. “Daniel survived.”

“The others?”

“Still with Luca.”

Roman’s expression sharpened despite his weakness.

“Then we are not finished.”

“No,” Valentina said. “We are not.”

The SUV entered a private underground garage beneath a stone estate.

Medical staff waited with a stretcher.

They pulled Roman from the vehicle.

His fingers tightened around Valentina’s before the doctors separated them.

“Do not leave,” he said.

It was the first request she had heard from him.

Not an order.

A request.

Valentina closed her hand around his knife.

“I won’t.”

The doctors rushed him through steel doors.

Alessio remained beside her.

Blood, soot, and dust covered them both.

“You understand what happens now?” he asked.

Valentina looked toward the doors.

“What?”

“If Roman dies, every enemy he has will attack before sunrise.”

“He is not dying.”

“And if he cannot lead?”

Valentina turned to him.

Alessio’s gaze dropped to the knife in her hand.

Roman’s knife.

A symbol every DeLuca soldier would recognize.

“He gave that to the boy,” Alessio said.

“He gave it to me.”

“Exactly.”

The meaning settled between them.

Roman had gone into the fire as the Butcher.

If he did not return, someone would have to hold his empire together.

Valentina looked down at the blood on the blade.

Then the lights in the garage flickered.

Every phone in the room began ringing at once.

Alessio answered his.

His face changed.

“What happened?” Valentina asked.

He lowered the phone.

“Luca has taken the DeLuca docks.”

Valentina tightened her grip on Roman’s knife.

Alessio continued.

“And he just announced that Roman DeLuca is dead.”