Danger strike chapter 8
1411 Words
The peace they had built was fragile, and Bella soon learned that in Alessandroâs world, happiness was always followed closely by danger.
It was late one night, the moon hidden behind heavy dark clouds, when the silence of the mansion was shattered. Bella was asleep in her room, but her eyes flew open at the sound of loud, aggressive shouting and the heavy, unmistakable sound of gunshots echoing from the front gates.
Her heart stopped. She threw the covers off and jumped out of bed, her bare feet hitting the cold floor. Before she could even reach the door, it swung open violently.
Alessandro stood there. He was dressed in dark tactical clothes instead of his usual suit, a gun held firmly in his hand, his face hard and alert. But the moment his eyes landed on her, the sharp edge of fear flashed through them.
"Get dressed," he ordered quickly, his voice low and urgent. "Wear something dark. And pack nothing. We leave now."
"What is happening?" Bella asked, her hands shaking as she grabbed the first clothes she found. "Who is out there?"
"Old enemies," Alessandro said shortly, stepping into the room and locking the door behind him. "The Romano family. I took their territory six months ago. I thought they were broken⊠but they came back for revenge. And they came for me here."
He walked to the window, peering out through the curtains, his jaw set tight. "They brought too many men. My guards are holding them off at the gates, but they wonât last long. We have to move."
Bella pulled on her clothes, her mind racing. She wasnât afraid for herself â not really. She was afraid for him. She looked at him, standing there ready to fight, ready to kill or be killed, and her chest ached with a terrifying realization. She couldnât lose him. Not now. Not when they had finally found each other behind all the walls and lies.
"Iâm ready," she said, stepping toward him.
Alessandro turned to her. He reached out, grabbing her shoulders, his grip firm but careful. He looked deep into her eyes, his expression shifting from the cold leader to the man who would burn the world down for her.
"Listen to me carefully, Bella," he said, his voice intense and serious. "No matter what happens next. No matter what you see or hear. You stay close to me. You do exactly as I say. If I tell you to run⊠you run and you donât look back. Do you understand?"
Tears pricked her eyes, but she nodded. "I understand. But Alessandro⊠I am not leaving you."
He stared at her, something soft and proud flickering in his dark eyes. He didnât argue. Instead, he pulled her against his chest, holding her tightly for one precious second â a silent promise, a goodbye, and a vow all in one.
"I will keep you safe," he whispered against her hair. "Even if I have to die to do it. You will not be taken. You will not be hurt. I swear it."
He let go and took her hand, lacing his fingers tightly through hers. "Come."
They moved quietly out into the hallway. The sounds of fighting were louder now â shouting, crashing, more gunfire. Smoke was beginning to fill the lower floors. Alessandro led her quickly toward the back stairs, away from the main entrance, moving with the speed and silence of a shadow.
They reached the back door that led to the garage, but just as Alessandro unlocked it, the door was kicked open from the outside.
Three men stood there â masked, armed, eyes cold and cruel.
"There he is!" one of them shouted, raising his gun.
Alessandro reacted instantly. He pushed Bella hard behind him, shielding her body completely with his own, and fired his weapon twice, fast and accurate. One man fell, but the other two opened fire immediately.
Bullets slammed into the wall, into the doorframe, whistling dangerously close. Bella pressed herself against the wall behind him, her heart pounding so hard she thought she would faint. She watched Alessandro â fearless, deadly, moving like a warrior â and yet every move he made, every step he took, was calculated to keep her completely covered, completely hidden behind his broad frame.
He wasnât just fighting for his life. He was fighting to put himself between every single danger and her.
"Run!" he shouted at her, never taking his eyes off the attackers. "Bella, go! Through the garden! To the car!"
"No!" she screamed back, terrified. "Iâm not leaving you!"
One of the men saw her peeking out from behind Alessandroâs shoulder. A wicked grin spread across his face. He shifted his aim â away from Alessandro, straight at her.
"Take the wife! That hurts him more than killing him!"
Alessandro saw it.
The look that crossed his face then was something Bella would never forget. It wasnât just anger. It wasnât just rage. It was pure, blinding, murderous fury. The kind of fury that turns a man into a force of nature.
"DONâT YOU DARE TOUCH HER!"
He roared the words like a beast, and before the man could pull the trigger, Alessandro lunged forward. He didnât care about the other gunman. He didnât care about his own safety. He threw himself directly in the path of the aim, his body a human shield.
BANG.
The gunshot rang out.
Alessandro grunted, stumbling back, but he didnât fall. He fired once more, hitting the man square in the chest, then turned and took down the last attacker with a single, precise shot.
Silence crashed down instantly.
Only the sound of their heavy breathing remained.
"Alessandro!" Bella scrambled out from behind him, catching him as his knees buckled. He leaned heavily against the wall, one hand clutching his left side, right over his ribs. Dark red blood was already seeping through his fingers, staining his dark clothes black.
"You⊠you took the bullet⊠for me," Bella whispered, horrified, pressing her hands over his wound to try and stop the bleeding. Tears were streaming down her face, hot and fast. "You jumped in front of it⊠you could have died!"
Alessandro looked down at her. His face was pale, sweat pouring down his forehead, pain written in every line of his body. But his eyes⊠his eyes were soft. Devoted. Calm.
He reached up with his free hand, his fingers trembling as he wiped the tears from her cheek.
"I told you," he breathed out, his voice rough and weak, but steady. "I told you⊠you are mine. And nothing⊠absolutely nothing⊠touches you unless it goes through me first."
He winced, but he pulled her closer, resting his forehead against hers.
"They wanted to hurt you⊠to take you⊠to use you against me," he whispered, his voice breaking with emotion he could no longer hold back. "If they had taken you⊠or hurt you⊠or killed you⊠Bella, I wouldnât have survived it. I wouldnât have wanted to."
He looked deep into her eyes, the walls completely gone, the fear of weakness forgotten, the lie he had told himself for so long finally shattered into dust.
"You ask why I did it? Why I burn everything down for you? Why I let you see every broken piece of me?"
He took a ragged breath, blood staining his lips, and finally, finally, the truth came out â raw, loud, and undeniable.
"Because I was wrong. I was wrong about everything."
"I said I would never love you. I said love was weakness. I said I had no heart."
He gripped her hand tighter, pressing it harder against his bleeding chest.
"But this⊠this pain, this fear, this need to protect you even if it kills me⊠this is love, Bella. This is more than love. This is my whole existence. You are my heart. You are my soul. You are the only thing that ever mattered."
He smiled weakly, a sad, tender smile.
"The Cold Mafia Boss never loved? No, my love⊠The Cold Mafia Boss loved you from the very first moment he saw you. He was just too scared to admit it. Too scared that loving you would destroy him."
He leaned heavier against her, his eyes beginning to close from the pain and blood loss.
"But I was wrong about that too. Loving you didnât destroy me⊠Loving you saved me."
- Writer
