The Gun In His Hand
Giuliana's pov
(Three weeks before the wedding)
I paced round the room, the conversation from earlier infiltrating my mind sporadically.
I fist my hand, my body burning with anger. How could Papa marry me off to Emiliano? And who would have thought he was actually a senior manager of one of his companies, not one of his loyal minions?
“Did papa mean everything he said?”
“Would he really kill me if I refused this proposal?”
“I’ll spread your body, so everyone sees what happens when you defy Don Morano,” I recalled his earlier words. Just the thought of his threat made goosebumps spread on my skin.
I had stomped out of the study like a little child who had just been banned from eating candy.
I had to stop this marriage one way or the other. I can't get married to that bastard.
“I hate him so much!” I screamed, grabbing my hair in frustration. I would rather marry my father's butler than that arrogant bastard. "He's so shameless,” I continued to rant to myself.
“Maybe if I could get rid of him…kill him perhaps,” I smiled evilly as I thought of big different ways to end the sick bastard’s life.
“Who do you plan to kill? My service might be needed.”
I jumped at the sound of a thick voice, my hands pressed to my chest.
I looked up to see the devil staring down at me, his face bare of any emotion.
“Why would you scare me like that?” I cried.
“It's not my fault you were busy trying to escape your fate when I kept knocking on your door,” he responded, his eyes boring into mine. “Who are you planning to kill, Principessa?"
“None of your damn business!” I spat back, glaring at him. “You could at least act a bit responsibly while under my father's roof. What if I was naked?”
“Your body doesn't come close to any I've caressed or killed...you're anything but special,” he said matter-of-factly.
“I will sleep with a pig, rather than let you ever come close to my body," I said. "You're worth nothing more than a puppet to my family. Don't you dare forget your place.”
“Just because you think you're a flimsy manager in Papa's lowest-ranked company does not make you someone here,” I seethed, my words coming out sharper than I intended.
He stared at me, his posture still tall and confident, like all the words I had just thrown at him meant nothing to him.
The silence that stretched between us felt more like an hour, no one willing to back down from the glare.
And then it hit me. He hadn't said the reason he barged into my room.
“What do you want?” I asked, my eyes still on him. I couldn't dare to leave his sight. It felt like if I let my guard down for a second, he would attack. That was how much I didn't trust this man.
I knew his type. He was the worst of those filthy traitors.
“You need to stop resisting this arrangement”
“Too bad, I don't do well with submitting orders...now get out!” I said, moving back to sit on my sofa.
But he stood back. His eyes roamed the corners of my room, like he was trying to find a clue of something dirty I was engaged in.
“I'd rather die than be your prisoner bride, Emiliano”
“You don't own a place here, not in this mansion, not in my heart," I clenched my teeth.
“Careful what you wish for, or I might just be kind enough to grant your wish,” he said, his eyes returning to me. I watched as his eyes trailed my body. My silk night dress had now ridden up due to my seated position, his eyes latching on the skin of my thighs. “Besides, your heart is of no use to me."
I opened my mouth to deliver a retort back when I heard a loud BANG.
I jumped out of my seat with a loud scream, trying to hide under the small coffee table, when I felt a hand grab mine and drag me.
“Get your filthy hands-” I tried to shout when another loud bang shook the building.
We were under attack.
My heart jumped wildly against my chest, my eyes squeezed shut.
The last attack I experienced was when I witnessed my mum get shut in her throat.
Emiliano dragged me out of my room and down the stairs. Just then, one of Papa's men ran towards us, attempting to push us away from an incoming bullet, the bullet hitting him instead. I screamed in disgust when his blood spilled on my face.
Emiliano continued to drag me away from the scene, my feet following hurriedly.
Bodies and bodies continued to fall on the tiled floor, the ground now stained a crimson red, a disgusting stench slowly filling the room.
My stomach twisted horribly from seeing all the dead bodies littered on the floor.
Before Emiliano could get close to the basement, more intruders walked in, bullets flying in random motion. He quickly pushed me down, his breath coming down heavily.
“You need to stay here... I need to go help the boss”, Emiliano screamed over the loud sound of the guns.
My eyes widened in slight fear. I had experienced something close to this before, and Papa had even trained me in self-defense, but still, I couldn't believe Emiliano was ready to leave his ‘fiancé’ in a gunfire scene.
“Are you really leaving me here?” I growled at him. "You're supposed to protect me, not my father, who has spent years living this kind of life. He is a mafia lord!”
“My loyalty lies with your father, not to his brat of a daughter who thinks everyone should bow to her feet,” he spat back before running out from under the table where he left me to fend for myself.
I suppressed the scream of frustration that bubbled irritatingly in my chest. I looked at the floor, noticing a gun on my feet.
“He thinks giving me a gun is enough to protect me?” I scoffed, shaking my head.
I wasn't going to sit under this table where I knew just anyone could find me. So I stood up and ran towards the basement, throwing the robe off my shoulder, its weight once restricting me.
The basement was safer. A place only Papa, his loyal men, and I knew the safe code to.
Just then, a shadow moved in front of me, and before I could bring the gun up to his face, his fist collided with my jaw, throwing me off the ground and landing on the floor with a loud thud.
Pain exploded through my entire body, the distinct smell of gunpowder filling my nose completely.
I urged my eyes to open, looking at the perpetrator. And in his hand was a gun, pointed to my head, off its safety.
My hands searched the space near me, frantically looking for the gun I held just moments ago…but it was nowhere.
It was then I realized my fate.
I was going to die, all because my fiancé was too much of a d**k to protect me.
Just then, at that short moment, I recalled Papa's words, “He's one of my most trustworthy men. I wouldn't just hand you over to an ordinary worker. He'll protect you, Bambina.” Papa tried to reassure him.
Joke’s on him.
And *BANG* the gun went off. I braced for the pain…but it never came, instead a body fell over me.
A body that smelled strangely familiar to the man who I swore I hated more than the devil.
Emiliano groaned as blood sputtered out of his stomach, while his hands gripped his gun, shooting the other man before I could register a scream out of my mouth.