His Ruin, His Salvation

Blazing Rush

Vittorio

The way she looked at that moment - it took everything in me not to rush her door down. "Um, right now?" she asked, voice unsure, barefoot in nothing but a robe, wet strands of hair clinging to her shoulders. I didn't answer, I couldn't. I just stood there, watching her, taking in every inch. Her cheeks flushed, and I noticed how she was trying to break eye contact. "I'll be there in a few," she said quickly before disappearing back inside. She had no idea what she was doing to me- how close she brought me to the edge. After years of watching her in the shadows, to finally be this near... The taste of restraint was bitter on my tongue as I straightened from where I leaned against the car.

My phone buzzed in my hand. Shipment en route to Milan. All crates are accounted for. Good. I stared at the screen a moment longer, then closed my eyes. The morning's events replayed in my mind. The sea breeze had carried the scent of old wood, salt and spirits through the open doors of the distillery. Gianni poured another sample from the barrel - clearly in love with my blend. "This...this is what Sicily tastes like." I took the glass, held it up in the light. "I'm sure Milan would agree." The contract was clean. Profits would flow both ways, and I'd secured distribution rights in Northern Italy. Another deal was sealed with a firm handshake and a shared understanding of what it would cost if that handshake ever failed. Gianni was a sly bastard, but he knew it was my way or no way. If he wanted a piece of my supply, he had no choice but to play by my rules.

My phone buzzed again, snapping me back. Dante. "Yes?" I answered, irritation clear. I'd told him not to call unless it was urgent. "Vitto, the warehouse... it stirred massive speculation. Defense is crawling all over the docks. "And you couldn't handle it?" " No, that's not it - Captain Volanti wants your ass. Word is, he says, it reeks of you." That bastard always rubbed me the wrong way. "I'll deal with him tomorrow," I muttered. Dante sighed. "Dante," I warned." Yeah?" "Don't you dare disturb me again unless you're hanging from a ten-foot building. "Understood?" He didn't answer. He didn't need to. I knew I'd made myself clear this time.

I looked towards her apartment - still no sign. The breeze had turned cold. I got into the driver's seat. I opened my wallet and there it was. The most exquisite green eyes stared back at me. My Elena. She had no idea what those eyes did to my soul. I'd made it clear before leaving the docks: I didn't want to be disturbed tonight. The fact that Dante even tried irritated me. Tonight, I wanted to focus solely on my green-eyed queen.

I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. The afternoon has been a hell of a ride. And now Volanti was sniffing around. Three men, on their knees, hands bound, faces already painted with blood and terror. The warehouse was mostly empty - no logos, no signs, just cold concrete and shadows thick enough to bury regrets in. And the smell...it reeked of gasoline and fear.

I stepped forward. Slow. Measured. Elegance in the face of c*****e. "You know what I hate?" I asked, voice calm. "When men forget who owns them." The first one whimpered. Too late. One shot. Clean. Right between the eyes. He slumped. Useless now. The silence after was heavier than the bullet's echo. I didn't stop walking. "You steal from me, you don't just lose your life," I said, eyes on the second one. I moved to him, gun loose in my grip. Then I noticed the kid - wide-eyes, trembling, blood crusted on his lip. Recognition hit me like a brick.

He used to run messages for us. A little street rat Lorenzo picked up, useful because of his quick feet and quicker tongue. I knew his father - loyal to a fault, bled for our cause back in the day. And now his son stood before me, caught red-handed, surrounded by my stolen stash. Disrespect doesn't even begin to cover it.

I clenched my jaw and shifted my focus back to the second man. No more words. The bullet slipped clean between his eyes. He collapsed like bricks, still twitching. Only the boy was left. He shook, barely able to meet my gaze. "You," I said, stepping closer. "I won't kill you." Relief flickered in his eyes. "But I'll make sure you never forget who spared you." So every time you see your reflection - every scar, every ache - remember that I did this. And remember why." With a nod, Dante moved in. Silent. Efficient. His first punch landed deep in the kid's gut, hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs. The boy coughed, body folding, gasping through the pain.

Then, my phone buzzed again. One of the shadows I'd placed on Elena. He wouldn't call unless something was wrong. "Yes," I answered. "There was a guy," he said without preamble. "Around lunchtime," followed her from the gallery to the café. Kept his distance. Couldn't get a clean visual - about six-foot-six, maybe. She must've sensed him. Started looking around."

My jaw clenched. Someone was following her. In my city. A bastard with a death wish. "She's home?" I asked. "Yes, sir." Got in about ten minutes ago. She's safe. I'm still close." "Good. Stay that way. If he shows his face again, end him. No questions." "Yes, sir," he said again before I hung up. I glanced down at my blood-smeared shirt. I needed a shower. A change. She had to be waiting by now. But first - one final message.

My men had already soaked the warehouse in gasoline. The stench clung to the air - thick and unforgiving. I watched as Dante dragged the kid to the car trunk. His screams were muffled the moment it slammed shut. He'd live. But he'd never forget. Dante returned to my side. "No calls tonight," I told him. "Unless you're dying." He gave a sharp nod. "Understood." I turned to the warehouse one last time, pulled out my lighter, flicked the flame, and tossed it onto the slick concrete.

It caught instantly. Roaring fire wrapped the structure like a beast unleashed. Blazing. Furious. But nothing compared to the fire that burned inside me for her. The warehouse was still burning in the rearview mirror. I didn't look back. Let the city talk. Now I needed a shower and a change of clothes. Then her.

By the time I pulled up to her street, the sky was dressed in deep indigo. I killed the engine and waited, my eyes scanning the entrance of her building. Then I called her. She was there - I knew she was. But I was so lost in thought I didn't notice when the car door opened. She slipped inside. Her scent filled the space instantly - a mix of something sweet and clean and her. Then I asked, my voice low and steady, "Have you had dinner yet?"

She looked at me startled - clearly not expecting that. Her eyes widened just a little before she masked it, pulling on a calm expression that didn't quite reach her eyes. "No. "Not yet," she answered softly. That was all I needed. Without another word, I shifted into drive and let the car roll forward, smooth and steady - like I hadn't just set fire to the underworld an hour ago.