MY MAFIA BOYFRIEND

After The Gunfire

Julian pushed the door open still smelling of gunpowder, blood darkening the side of his shirt.

The second Isabella saw him she broke.

She ran across the room and crashed into his chest, arms locking around him so tightly it made the wound on his side burn. A broken sob tore out of her throat. Her whole body was shaking.

“I thought—” Her voice cracked. “I heard the shots and then those men came out of the elevator and I thought—”

Julian’s arms closed around her at once. One hand cradled the back of her head, the other pressed firmly between her shoulder blades, holding her against him as she cried.

“I’ve got you,” he said, low and steady. “It’s over. They’re gone.”

She only clung tighter, face buried in his chest, tears soaking into his bloody shirt. Julian didn’t try to make her stop. He stood there and let her fall apart, jaw tight, eyes cold over the top of her head.

When her sobs finally started to ease, he guided her backward until they reached the bed and sat her down. He stayed standing in front of her, hands still on her shoulders, thumbs brushing over the tense muscles there.

“Look at me.”

Isabella lifted her face. Her eyes were red and wet.

“You’re safe,” Julian said. “Dante handled the ones who made it upstairs. The rest are dead. No one is getting near you again.”

Her hands were still fisted in his shirt. “You’re bleeding.”

“I know.” He wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs, the touch careful despite the violence still clinging to him. “It looks worse than it is.”

Isabella shook her head, fresh tears spilling over. “They almost shot me. The bullet hit the wall right next to my head.”

Something dark and lethal flashed through Julian’s eyes. His hands stilled on her face.

“I know,” he said quietly. “And your father is going to answer for that.”

He leaned down and pressed a long kiss to her forehead, lingering there while she kept crying softly against him. His voice dropped even lower.

“You’re not leaving my sight for a long time after this. I don’t care who asks for you. Clear?”

Isabella nodded against him, still shaking, still holding on like he was the only solid thing left in the room.

Julian stayed in front of her until the worst of the shaking stopped.

He carefully pulled her hands from his shirt and pressed a clean cloth against the wound on his side, wincing only slightly. Isabella watched every movement, eyes still wet.

“Let me,” she said quietly.

He hesitated, then nodded and sat on the edge of the bed. Isabella knelt in front of him and took over, cleaning the graze with unsteady hands. The bullet had carved a shallow line across his ribs. It wasn’t deep, but it kept bleeding.

“You could have been killed,” she whispered.

“So could you.” Julian’s voice was flat. “That’s the part I care about.”

When she finished wrapping the bandage, he caught her wrist and pulled her up between his knees. His hands settled on her hips, holding her there.

“I need you to listen to me,” he said. “Really listen.”

Isabella nodded.

“Your father sent men into my home with guns. They reached this floor. One of them almost put a bullet in your head. That doesn’t get forgiven. It doesn’t get talked out over coffee. He made a decision tonight, and now I’m going to make one.”

Her stomach twisted. “What are you going to do?”

Julian looked at her for a long moment. Some of the cold fury in his eyes softened.

“I’m going to make sure he never tries this again,” he said. “That’s all you need to know right now.”

He pulled her closer until she was sitting across his lap, careful of his side. Isabella curled into him without being told, face against his neck. His hand moved slowly up and down her back.

“You’re staying with me tonight,” he murmured. “Not because I’m ordering it. Because I need to know you’re right here.”

She didn’t argue.

Outside, Dante and the others were already erasing every trace of what had happened in the lobby. Inside the bedroom, Julian held Isabella like the danger hadn’t fully passed — and maybe it hadn’t.

The next morning came grey and quiet.

Isabella woke to the feeling of Julian’s fingers moving slowly through her hair. He was still sitting up against the headboard, exactly where she had left him. The dark circles under his eyes made it clear he hadn’t slept.

“You stayed awake all night,” she said.

“Yes.”

She pushed herself up carefully, mindful of his side. “You should have rested.”

“I’ll rest when this is handled.” Julian’s voice was rough from lack of sleep, but steady. He looked at her for a long moment. “How do you feel?”

“Like someone tried to kill me last night.”

A humorless breath left him. “They did.”

He reached for his phone and typed out a short message. A minute later there was a knock on the door. Julian checked the peephole before unlocking it. Dante stepped inside, clean shirt, same unreadable expression as always. He glanced at Isabella once, then focused on Julian.

“Lobby’s clean,” Dante reported. “Bodies are gone. Security footage has been taken care of. The man who survived is in the basement. He’s talking.”

Julian nodded once. “And Richard?”

“Still at his house. No movement. Looks like he went to ground after he realized it failed.”

“Keep eyes on him. I want to know every time he opens a door or picks up a phone.”

“Already done.”

Dante left as quietly as he had come. When the door shut, Julian turned back to Isabella,

“I’m going to meet with him,” he said. “Today.”

Isabella’s stomach dropped. “Julian—”

“He doesn’t get to sit comfortably in his house after sending men to mine.” He stood and walked to the closet, pulling out a fresh black shirt. “You’re staying here with Dante. No elevators. No calls. No exceptions.”

She watched him dress, the bandage on his ribs stark against his skin. “What are you going to do to him?”

Julian looked at her over his shoulder. For a second the man who had held her while she cried was gone, replaced by the one who had walked through a lobby full of bodies without flinching.

“I’m going to make sure he understands the difference between a father and a problem,” he said simply. “And I’m going to make sure he never confuses the two again.”

He finished buttoning his shirt, crossed the room, and leaned down to kiss her once — firm, brief, and final.

“I’ll be back before dark.”

Then he left, and the penthouse felt too large the moment the door closed behind him.