Chapter 7:The First Blood
719 Words
Florence Romano Estate, Panic Level
Screams echoed through the estate. The rhythmic beeping of the security system went from pulsing to frantic. Glass shattered. Gunfire crackled like fireworks in hell.
Leo moved like a beast loosed from its cage.
He dragged Sofia through the vault, hand tight on hers, his gun already drawn. Two guards came rushing in heads down, weapons up.
“Get her underground,” Leo barked.
But Sofia didn’t move.
“I’m not hiding,” she said, breath ragged. “I want to help.”
Leo looked at her like she’d gone mad. “You think this is a f*****g game? These men will shoot you in the face and f**k the hole they leave behind.”
“Then teach me how to kill them first.”
He froze.
A flicker of pride crossed his expression.
Then he handed her a gun.
“Safety off. Eyes ahead. If you see someone who’s not one of mine pull the trigger.”
She nodded, gripping it with both hands.
They moved like shadows down a narrow passage behind the vault, into a panic corridor laced with mirrors and blind corners. The smell of gunpowder and blood was thick already.
“Stay low,” Leo said. “Don’t hesitate.”
They turned a corner and came face-to-face with one of them.
A Russian soldier tall, masked, armed.
Sofia didn’t think.
She fired.
The shot blasted through his throat. He crumpled with a gurgling gasp, blood spurting against the wall.
Silence followed.
Then another shot rang out—not hers.
It missed her by inches.
Leo fired twice. One shot to the chest. One to the head.
The second attacker dropped instantly.
Sofia was shaking.
She looked down at the blood splattered across her hands. Her chest heaved. Her ears rang.
Leo grabbed her, spun her against the wall, and cupped her face.
“You did good,” he said roughly. “You f*****g listened. That was survival.”
“I killed him,” she whispered.
“No,” Leo said. “You chose to live.”
She looked up at him, eyes wild. “I’ve never killed anyone before.”
“And now you have. And you didn’t flinch.”
Their eyes locked—feral and full of something dark and undeniable.
Then he kissed her.
Hard. Brutal. Bloody.
It wasn’t love—it was war.
His mouth crushed hers, tongue demanding, lips slick with desperation and copper. She kissed him back like he was her last breath, her only anchor in a world that had just cracked open.
He broke the kiss, panting.
“You don’t get to pretend you’re innocent anymore,” he growled. “You’re one of us now.”
Sofia swallowed hard. “Then teach me everything.”
He smirked, wicked and raw. “Later.”
A scream echoed through the estate—female.
Leo’s expression darkened.
“That’s not one of ours,” he said.
He turned back, eyes like knives. “Stay behind me. You shoot anyone who gets close. Aim for the neck or the balls.”
Sofia nodded, heart hammering.
They moved fast.
Bodies lay on the floor some Russian, some Leo’s men. The estate was bleeding. Sofia was, too but on the inside. Her soul was cracking in ways she hadn’t known possible.
They reached the west wing.
That’s when she saw her.
Elena.
The housemaid.
Held by the hair by a masked intruder with a knife to her throat.
“Let her go,” Leo ordered.
The man laughed. “You let go first.”
Leo raised his gun.
So did Sofia.
The Russian looked at her, amused. “This one? Pretty. Did you break her yet, Romano?”
Leo’s eyes burned. “She broke you.”
Sofia fired.
One clean shot to the man’s forehead.
He dropped like a stone—dragging Elena down with him.
Sofia rushed forward and pulled her free.
The maid sobbed in her arms.
Leo stared at Sofia, something new and fierce in his eyes.
Not just desire.
Respect.
He crossed to her, pulled her to her feet, and kissed her again.
This one was different less rage, more awe.
“I told you I’d ruin you,” he whispered.
Sofia met his gaze, steady now.
“I think I’m already ruined.”
- Writer
