Chapter 7 - The Attempt
1041 Words
The first shot wasn’t heard.
It was felt.
Alessia was leaving the prosecutor’s office late that night, case files tucked under her arm. The building was nearly empty. Fluorescent lights hummed softly above her as she walked toward the parking lot.
Her heels echoed against concrete.
She paused.
Something felt wrong.
The air was too still.
Too quiet.
She slowed her steps.
Then she saw it — a black SUV parked where no vehicle had been earlier.
Engine off.
Windows tinted.
Watching.
Her pulse increased, but she forced herself to stay calm. She reached for her phone.
Before she could dial—
A hand grabbed her wrist.
Hard.
She gasped, turning sharply.
A man in a dark jacket tried to pull her toward the vehicle.
Panic surged.
But Alessia reacted instantly.
She twisted her arm free and slammed her elbow backward into his ribs.
He grunted.
Another figure moved from the side.
Her heart raced.
This wasn’t random.
This was planned.
She reached for the alarm button on her phone—
A loud engine roared nearby.
Headlights flashed across the parking lot.
The attackers hesitated.
A second vehicle screeched into view — black, powerful, unmistakable.
The door flew open.
Luca stepped out.
Calm.
Controlled.
Deadly.
Everything about him shifted the atmosphere.
The attackers froze.
They recognized him.
One of them tried to run.
Luca moved faster than expected.
Within seconds, he had the man pinned against the hood of the SUV.
No shouting.
No chaos.
Just quiet dominance.
“You chose the wrong night,” Luca said evenly.
His voice wasn’t loud.
It didn’t need to be.
The remaining attacker fled.
Sirens could be heard in the distance — likely triggered by security.
Luca didn’t look away from the man he held.
“Who sent you?” he asked calmly.
Silence.
A single tightening of Luca’s grip.
The man struggled.
Luca leaned closer.
“Answer me.”
Still nothing.
With controlled precision, Luca released him and stepped back.
The man fell to the ground, shaken.
Luca’s men arrived seconds later, taking control of the situation.
The attackers were restrained.
Luca turned toward Alessia.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Her breathing was uneven.
But she stood straight.
Refused to appear shaken.
“You followed me,” she said.
“I was already watching your location,” he replied.
Her eyes narrowed. “So this was planned.”
“Yes.”
He stepped closer — scanning her for injuries.
His hand lightly grasped her arm, checking if she was hurt.
His touch was different now.
Not provocative.
Not teasing.
Protective.
“You should have left the building earlier,” he said quietly.
“I can handle myself.”
“I don’t doubt that.”
That surprised her.
He wasn’t arguing.
He was assessing.
She looked up at him.
For the first time, the mask of control felt slightly cracked.
Not fear.
Concern.
“You came quickly,” she said.
He didn’t respond immediately.
His eyes were darker than usual.
“I told you someone would try something,” he said.
“Why do you care?” she asked softly.
A brief silence.
Because the answer was not something Luca DeMarco gave lightly.
Finally, he said:
“Because you are not allowed to fall before I decide what to do with you.”
Her heart skipped — but not from fear.
From intensity.
The tension between them felt different now.
Closer.
Real.
He removed his jacket without asking and placed it around her shoulders.
She stiffened slightly.
“This isn’t necessary.”
“Yes, it is.”
His tone left no room for argument.
His hand rested lightly at her back as he guided her toward his car.
Not forcing.
Not dragging.
Just leading.
For once, Alessia didn’t resist.
Inside the vehicle, silence filled the space between them.
She stared out the window as the city passed by.
Finally, she spoke.
“This wasn’t random.”
“No,” he agreed.
“That means someone inside your organization is targeting me.”
“Yes.”
She turned to look at him.
“And you knew this would happen?”
“I suspected.”
Her brows furrowed.
“Then why didn’t you stop it sooner?”
His jaw tightened slightly.
“Because now I know who is involved.”
That answer made her go quiet.
He was using the attack.
Strategically.
Like everything else.
She studied him.
“You didn’t just save me,” she said slowly.
“No.”
“You needed me alive for something.”
His eyes met hers briefly.
“Yes.”
The honesty was unsettling.
But not cruel.
When they arrived at her apartment, he got out first, scanning the surroundings before allowing her to step out.
No threats.
No jokes.
Just vigilance.
At her door, she turned to face him.
For a long moment, neither spoke.
The air between them was heavy with what almost happened.
With what could have happened.
“You were worried,” she said quietly.
He didn’t deny it.
“Yes.”
That single word changed something.
Her expression softened — just slightly.
“I’m not easy to kill,” she murmured.
“I know,” he replied.
A faint pause.
Then, lower:
“That is why I am involved.”
Her breath slowed.
He stepped closer — not invading, not dominating.
Just close.
“You will continue your investigation,” he said. “But now you do it with my knowledge.”
She hesitated.
Working with him meant crossing lines.
But refusing him could cost lives.
Including hers.
“Fine,” she said finally.
His gaze sharpened slightly.
“Good.”
For a second, it felt less like enemies.
More like allies.
Dangerous allies.
As he turned to leave, she spoke again.
“Luca.”
He stopped.
Looked back.
She met his eyes directly.
“Next time,” she said calmly, “warn me before you start a war.”
A faint hint of something almost like admiration crossed his expression.
“No,” he replied softly.
“That would remove the surprise.”
And then he was gone.
Leaving her standing at her door — wrapped in his jacket — heart racing for reasons that had nothing to do with fear
- Writer
