Blood and Vows: The forbidden love

Chapter Eight: The Choice

Time slowed.

Isabella could hear every detail the distant crackle of fire devouring hymn books, the ragged breaths of Rafael against her ear, the hollow toll of a bell struck by stray bullets.

Her brothers’ faces blurred into shadows. Delgado’s voice became a snarl she no longer cared for.

There was only Rafael, Bleeding, Fading And her unborn child within her, kicking faintly as if sensing the storm.

She rose, spreading her arms wide before Rafael, placing herself between him and the barrel of Alejandro’s gun.

“If you kill him,” she said, her voice clear and sharp, cutting through chaos, “you will have to kill me too. And my child. Your blood. Your kin.”

The words struck like lightning.

The brothers froze. Even Delgado faltered, confusion flashing in his eyes.

Alejandro’s pistol wavered. His mouth opened, but no words came.

“Your child?” Carlos rasped. His hand fell limp to his side. Diego’s face drained of color. Mateo dropped his gun altogether, chest heaving.

Isabella pressed her palm to her belly, her chin high. “Our child. Rafael’s and mine. You want to end this family? Then fire. Spill not only your sister’s blood, but your nephew’s. Carry that weight until the grave.”

Silence. A silence so heavy it felt like the church itself held its breath.

Then gunfire.

A dozen shots cracked at once, shattering the moment. Delgado’s men, enraged and impatient, stormed forward. Bullets ripped through pews, ricocheted off marble, sent guests screaming to the ground.

Rafael pushed Isabella down, covering her with his own battered body as wood splintered and glass rained. Pain lanced through him, but he gritted his teeth, holding fast.

Alejandro turned in fury, his pistol no longer aimed at Rafael but at Delgado.

“You bring war into my church?” Alejandro roared, firing three shots in rapid succession. One struck Delgado’s shoulder, spinning him back in shock. Blood sprayed across the altar.

Chaos exploded into c*****e.

Isabella screamed as strangers fell around her, men she did not know, men who had come to celebrate her marriage but now lay dead in holy aisles. Rafael coughed blood into her hair, his grip on his pistol weakening.

Mateo dragged her by the arm, screaming at her to move. “We have to go! Now!”

“No!” she cried, clinging to Rafael. “I won’t leave him!”

Carlos and Diego laid down covering fire, their bullets raining into Delgado’s men, each brother a storm unto himself. Alejandro barked orders, dragging his men back into position, trying desperately to control the flood.

But the war was already unleashed

Smoke thickened, choking the air. Flames clawed up velvet banners, casting the cathedral in hellish red.

Isabella and Rafael stumbled toward the side doors, Mateo half-hauling his bleeding brother-in-law. Rafael’s legs buckled, but his eyes never left her, fierce even in pain.

“Don’t let them take her,” he rasped, voice nearly gone. “Promise me.”

“I promise,” Mateo swore, tears streaking his soot-stained face.

But before they could reach the door shadows blocked their path.

Delgado’s men. A dozen of them, rifles raised.

And at their center, Martín Delgado himself, blood soaking his suit, eyes wild with fury. He aimed his weapon straight at Isabella.

“You think you can shame me, puta?” His voice was broken, jagged with rage. “You’ll watch him die. Then I’ll cut your bastard from your belly.”

“No!” Isabella screamed, throwing herself against Rafael’s chest, shielding him once more.

The gun c****d.

Delgado fired.