Page 105 of Mafia King's Forbidden Obsession

“See, I’ll let you in on a little secret,” Matteo ignores his threat, his voice laced with dark amusement. “I knew you wouldn’t send the documents and would show up here to play the hero, so I arranged a little surprise for you.”

As soon as he finishes speaking, I pick out a series of gunfire erupting somewhere in the building. Unlike the first time, these shots don’t cease.

“Boss, can you hear me?” a voice crackles from somewhere nearby.

Ezra reaches for his pocket, and Matteo laughs. “You should get that.”

Ezra takes out a walkie-talkie. He presses a button, his tone sharp. “Elio, what’s going on?”

“Sudden ambush, open fire on all sides. That’s not the worst of it.” Elio’s voice pushes through a background of heavy gunshots that makes me wince. “The mansion is under attack,” Ezra’s hard eyes flicker to Matteo, and I swallow hard, “our men are pinned down, and they’re taking serious fire as well.”

The walkie-talkie is silent for a second before Elio’s voice floats out again. “We’re cut off, Boss. We can’t send backup.”

Matteo’s laugh is unsettling, slicing through the silence that follows. “Enjoying my little surprise, Ezra?”

Ezra’s grip tightens against the walkie-talkie. “Matteo…” he murmurs, his tone dangerous as he chucks the device back into his pocket.

Matteo’s grin widens. “I wanted to bring you out of your mansion. I knew you’d come with your most powerful men and leave your mansion vulnerable. You see, I want to take over. All these years, I’ve been building my own army of loyalists. It’s finally time to be king. Once I kill you, I will wipe out all of your fucking men in all of your establishments.”

“But you had the chance to attack while I was in a coma. Why didn’t you then?” Ezra asks through gritted teeth.

Matteo mocks in a sickly sweet voice, “What’s the fun in killing a half-dead man? Where’s dignity in that? You still don’t understand. Everything I’ve done is to make you feel what I felt...to make you be at my mercy just like I was at yours fifteen years ago.”

“And that includes…” he pauses, letting the silence thicken, “...killing this bitch and your little bastard inside her, right in front of you.”

My heart stops while the weight of his words settles in. My eyes dart around the bare space, searching for a way out. I refuse to die a sitting duck.

I feel the gun shift from my neck. From the corner of my eye, I see Matteo’s hand move in slow motion, angling his gun towards Ezra.

This is my chance.

Acting on instinct, I turn around and drive my knee into Matteo’s groin with all the strength I can muster. He lets out a pained gasp, doubling over and loosening his grip on both me and the gun.

In an instant, Ezra moves like lightning, dropping to the floor and scooping up his gun in one fluid motion. I crouch and cover my ears as Ezra aims at Matteo and fires without hesitation.

The shot reverberates, echoing in the confined space. I turn to see Matteo stumble back, clutching his side as blood seeps through his fingers before he falls to the floor.

Without thinking, I scramble toward Ezra, and he drapes his arms around me firmly.

“Are you okay, baby? Did he hurt you?” he asks, softly, his eyes raking over me. When they land on my busted lips, his eyes darken.

“I’m fine.” I shake my head vigorously, my bound palms coming up to cup his face. My breath, once shallow and ragged, comes out in a long, shaky exhale as the realization hits— he's okay. He's alive.

We should get the hell out of here.

But then, Ezra rises and strides over to Matteo, gripping his shirt and lifting him just enough to drive a hard punch across his face,the crack of bone against skin filling the room. Matteo’s head snaps back, a groan escaping his now blooded lip.

“That’s for threatening my Raven and my child,” Ezra snarls, and warmth stirs in my chest despite everything. He punches Matteo again, this time harsher. “And that’s for endangering my family.”

Ezra’s grip tightens, pulling Matteo closer as his head droops, barely held up. The only sounds are their breaths—one furious, the other labored— and distant gunfire.

“Call it off.” Ezra’s fist crashes down again. “Call off the damn attack!”

Ezra’s punches come in quick, relentless succession, but Matteo only laughs, a mad, hollow sound filling the space.

“Boss, it’s no use,” a voice says from the doorway. One of Ezra’s guards steps inside. “We have to get out there and support our men.”

Ezra pauses, releasing Matteo’s shirt and turning toward me. As he reaches me, he pulls me into his arms, holding me tightly. When we pull apart, my eyes fall to his hand, his knuckles raw and bloodied.

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