DARIO
The thick andsuffocating shadows swallow us whole as I draw Mia near. My hand clamping over her mouth smothers her startled gasp, and her widened eyes meet mine in an instant of pure terror. I drink in those fear-stained orbs, that delicate face contorted in panic.
"Don't make a sound," I growl in Mia's ear, the tremor in her body fueling my protective urge. For a fleeting moment, I envision a life where she would never know this dread, this violation of her sacred space. But that's a fool's dream in my world.
Rafael hurls a canvas backdrop aside, clearing a space as I yank Mia along. Gabby whimpers, but her cry is instantly muffled by Rafael's crushing grasp and a single finger over his lips to silence her. Both women clamp their mouths shut, but their fear remains evident in the tremors wracking their bodies.
Mia collapses against me, chest heaving, dark eyes searching mine. I caress her cheek, leaning in until our brows nearly touch.
"Stay quiet," I mouth, the words hanging between us thick as smoke. "And no matter what, don’t come out. I'll get you both out of here."
I feel her tense muscles relax ever so slightly against me as she heeds my command. As I peer down at her, consumed by the burning desire to keep her safe, I accept the truth I’ve yet to say out loud. I quickly realize just how much this woman means to me. It’s more than duty, more than lust. It’s love.
Mia nods. Then Gabby flings herself at Mia, the two clinging together in a trembling embrace as Rafael fortifies their hiding spot in the concealed alcove behind a makeshift wall of photography backdrops.
I turn to Rafael, a silent conversation passing between us, a language forged from years of brotherhood and bloodshed. The last thing I wanted to do was use Mia as bait, her safety is the only thing I care about, but it was the only way to draw him here so that we can finally rip off the mask and put an end to this shit.
We get into place on opposite sides of the studio, prowling behind backdrops and racks of clothing, waiting for the inevitable. The scrape of the outer door followed by footsteps echo down the vacant corridor, the rhythmic thumps reverberating through the floorboards like a ticking bomb.
Rafael melts into the shadows. I slide my gun free, and the metal is cold and heavy in my grasp.
The bastard rounds the corner, scanning the area. He pauses, tilting his head as if sensing our presence lurking in the gloom. For a beat, everything stills—even the air seems to hold its breath.
Then he's moving again, stalking further into the room. My finger caresses the trigger of my gun, and I have to force myself not to react right away. This motherfucker has been one step ahead of us this whole time. If I’m going to end this, I can't rush it.
He pushes one of the frames out of the way, and I watch Mia and Gabby fight to make themselves smaller. They crotch into the corner, holding their breaths as if it’ll make them invisible.He passes by without a second glance, and I try to get a good look at his face, but the hood he’s wearing blocks it.
Once the fucker has ventured far enough into the loft, Rafael emerges, his expression grim. I follow suit, and we fan out.
The man doesn't even have time to cry out before I cinch my forearm across his windpipe, and Rafael wrenches his arms behind his back.
"Welcome to the party," I snarl against his ear as he bucks and writhes, trying in vain to break free.
We crash to the floor in a tangle of limbs, his breath wheezing out in a startled grunt. I slam the heel of my palm into his sternum, driving the wind from his lungs as Rafael secures his thrashing legs.
"Who are you?" I demand as I put my gun with the silencer attached behind my back and circle him like a shark scenting blood. "And why the fuck are you after my family?"
He remains stubbornly silent, chest heaving. A muscle twitches in his jaw as our gazes lock in a battle of wills.
“You’ve got two choices. Tell me what I need to know, and I’ll kill you quickly. Don’t, and I’ll drag this out until the pain is so unbearable you’ll beg me to end you.”
“F…fuck you,” he forces the words out in a thick, garbled slur.
"Have it your way." Rafael hands me a curved hunting knife. "Last chance to start talking."
He responds by spitting a sticky wad that barely misses me and lands at my feet. "Do your worst, you DeLuca scum."
A harsh chuckle rattles free. “Now we have one answer. You’re aware of who we are. So you know we don’t take too well to being threatened.”
“I already shot the mayor, the next bullet was meant for your bitch, but you jumped in the way. I’ll make sure I have some fun with that sexy-ass body of hers after I blow your brains out.”
White-hot rage detonates in me.
I slam his head back, relishing the sharp crack of bone on Mia’s concrete floors. Then I grab a fistful of his hair, yank his head up again, and drive my fist into his face. Cartilage crunches, warmth spattering my knuckles as his nose explodes in a crimson geyser.
Again and again I strike, each blow fueled by a lifetime of rage—at the world, at these fucked up tangle of circumstances.
By the time I refocus, the bastard is a broken, wheezing mess. His eyes are swollen slits, every breath a desperate, gurgling rasp as he chokes on his blood.