The Clumsy Baker and Her Secret Mafia Husband

CHAPTER ELEVEN

A cold, detached amusement washed over me. They were completely, totally oblivious to the fact that the very monster they feared wasn't hiding behind his security gates—he was standing right above them, looking down at them like cattle waiting for the s*******r.

I reached behind my back, my fingers wrapping firmly around the textured grip of my suppressed pistol. I didn't hesitate. I didn't offer a warning. The concept of mercy had been beaten out of me a lifetime ago.

I stepped out onto the landing, raised the weapon with a perfectly steady hand, and squeezed the trigger twice in rapid succession.

Phfft. Phfft.

The sound of the suppressed gunshots was incredibly faint, nothing more than a pair of sharp, wet whispers cutting through the damp air. The lead hitman, the one frantically working on the lock, froze instantly. A neat, dark crimson hole appeared perfectly in the center of his forehead, followed a microsecond later by a identical puncture wound through the back of his skull. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and his body went entirely limp, collapsing forward against the iron gate with a heavy, muffled thud.

The second man, standing right next to him, didn't even have the chance to raise his weapon before the second round pierced his throat, severing his vocal cords entirely. He let out a wet, gurgling gasp, his hands flying to his neck as he slumped against the concrete wall, leaving a thick, dark trail of blood sliding down the painted surface.

"What the hell—!" the third hitman yelled, his eyes widening in absolute horror as he looked up the stairs, finally spotting my massive, imposing silhouette towering over them in the shadows.

Before he could pull the trigger of his submachine gun, I leaped over the iron banister, dropping down the entire flight of stairs with impossible speed and force. I landed heavily on top of him, the sheer momentum of my massive body crushing his chest and throwing him violently onto the concrete floor. The sound of his ribs fracturing echoed loudly through the small space.

As we hit the ground, I spun fluidly, my right hand flashing downward to draw one of the carbon-steel tactical knives from my forearm sheath. With a single, continuous, and devastating motion, I drove the razor-sharp blade cleanly upward beneath his jawline, piercing straight into his brain stem. He stiffened instantly, his limbs twitching once before going completely still beneath me.

The fourth hitman, the last one remaining on the indoor landing, let out a terrified shriek, his hands shaking violently as he scrambled backward, trying to raise his weapon to spray the narrow stairwell with bullets.

I didn't give him the opportunity. I rolled off the dead man's body, swept my leg across the floor with immense power, and caught the hitman sharply around the ankles. His feet flew out from under him, and he crashed violently onto his back, his submachine gun clattering away across the concrete floor.

Before he could crawl away, I was already on top of him. I planted my heavy boot firmly onto his chest, pinning him to the ground with a force that made his lungs violently gasp for air. I leaned down, the shadows covering my face, leaving only my freezing gray eyes visible to him.

"P-Please," the man gasped, his face turning a sickly, terrified shade of pale white as he stared up into the face of his executioner. He recognized me. Even in the dim, flickering light, he knew exactly who I was. "Don't... don't kill me..."

"Who gave you the location of the contract?" I asked, my voice dropping into that terrifying, gravelly growl that stripped a man of his sanity. I applied more pressure to his chest, listening to the agonizing creak of his sternum bending under my boot. "Tell me exactly who leaked the information, or I will make sure your death takes days."

"It... it was Valenti!" the man choked out, tears of absolute agony and terror streaming down his face. "Valenti from the western territory! He sold the digital copies to the Lucchese Don! Please... that's all I know! I swear it!"

"Thank you for your cooperation," I whispered coldly.

Without a single shred of hesitation, I shifted my weight and brought my heavy boot down onto his throat, crushing his windpipe instantly. The man let out one final, choked gasp before his eyes went completely glassy and vacant.

Four down. Four remaining.

I stood up, completely unbothered by the violent c*****e surrounding my feet. I didn't have a single scratch on my body, and my breathing remained perfectly steady, calm, and controlled. I walked over to the iron security gate, stepped over the first hitman's body, and pushed the heavy metal door open, stepping out into the cool, crisp night air of the alleyway.

The remaining four hitmen were stationed around the two black SUVs, their weapons raised as they nervously scanned the ends of the alleyway, completely unaware that the threat was coming from behind them.

The moment the metal door clicked behind me, all four men whirled around, their eyes widening as they saw me walking calmly out of the shadows of the building, completely alone, with a suppressed pistol held loosely at my side.

"Hey! He's out here! Shoot him—!" the closest man yelled, but his command was cut short.

From the dark rooftops surrounding the alleyway, a series of faint, synchronized pfft sounds echoed through the night.

Before the hitmen could even raise their weapons, four neat, precise holes appeared simultaneously in their chests. The elite snipers Enzo had stationed on the roofs had executed their targets with flawless, military precision. The four men collapsed onto the asphalt like a deck of cards, their weapons clattering loudly against the ground.

The entire engagement had taken less than two minutes. The alleyway was completely silent once again, save for the low, rhythmic humming of the two idling SUV engines.

From the shadows at the end of the alley, Enzo stepped forward, his long black trench coat billowing slightly in the wind. His expression was completely serious as he walked past the bodies, his eyes scanning the scene before stopping on me.

"The area is completely secure, Boss," Enzo reported, bowing his head slightly in respect. "My clean-up crew is already moving in with the vans. These bodies and the vehicles will vanish from the city within five minutes. There won't be a single trace of blood left on this asphalt."

"Good," I replied, my voice cold, detached, and empty of emotion. I reached behind my back and holstered my pistol, then wiped the carbon-steel knife on the jacket of a dead hitman before sliding it back into my sheath. "What about Valenti?"

Enzo’s eyes narrowed into slits. "My men are already tracking his location. He fled to a safehouse near the docks the moment the contract was leaked. He knows he's a dead man walking."

"Bring him to my private warehouse downtown," I ordered, my gray eyes flashing with a terrifying, vengeful light. "I will handle his interrogation personally tomorrow morning. He needs to learn exactly what happens to traitors who put my wife in danger."

"Understood, Boss. It will be done," Enzo said, turning to signal the clean-up crew as a large, unmarked white van pulled into the alleyway.

I didn't stay to watch them work. I turned on my heel and walked back through the heavy steel door, stepping into the concrete stairwell. I ascended the steps quickly, my movements fluid and silent as I returned to the upper floor of the building.

I opened the fire door to the kitchen, stepping back into the warm, safe environment of the apartment. I immediately walked over to the sink, turned on the faucet, and thoroughly washed my hands with antibacterial soap, making sure there wasn't a single speck of dirt or dust on my skin. I checked myself in the small mirror near the hallway, verifying that my dark gray t-shirt was completely clean and that my hair was perfectly in place.

I forced the cold-blooded killer back down into his cage, locking the iron door securely. I took a deep breath, letting the freezing ice in my gray eyes melt away, replacing it with the soft, gentle, and slightly tired expression of the simple corporate office worker.

I walked down the narrow hallway, my footsteps intentional and slightly heavy so she would hear me coming. I gently pushed open her bedroom door and stepped inside.

The room was bathed in the warm, colorful glow of the television screen. Bella was sitting right in the middle of her large, fluffy bed, surrounded by a mountain of pink pillows. She had a huge, bright smile on her face, and her round glasses were pushed up onto her head as she watched a colorful cartoon character bounce across the screen.

The moment she saw me enter, her big brown eyes lit up with pure, unadulterated joy.

"Gio!" she chirped happily, patting the empty spot on the mattress right next to her. "You're finally done with your boring phone call! Come sit down! I found the absolute best movie for us to watch!"

Looking at her pristine, completely unbothered face, the last remnants of the violent storm inside my chest completely vanished. The blood, the hitmen, and the traitors didn't matter. She was safe. She was right here in her beautiful, safe world of cupcakes and rainbows, completely protected from the darkness.

"I'm right here, little bird," I said softly, a genuine, warm smile forming on my face as I walked over and climbed onto the bed next to my beautiful, clumsy wife. I wrapped my large arm around her shoulders, pulling her soft body tightly against my chest. "Let's watch your movie."