Page 79 of The One
I glance over my shoulder and find her still huddled in the back seat, her body curled so tightly she looks like she’s trying to disappear.
The sight of her trembling like that punches me in the gut. She’s terrified, and I hate it.
I hate that she had to go through this. Sure, she grew up in a Mafia family, but she’s never been exposed to the violence.
“We’re safe now,” I tell her, wanting nothing more than to take her into my arms and comfort her.
The anger inside me threatens to boil over. Whoever is responsible will pay. I swear it. The bastards who put that fear in her eyes are going to wish they’d never been born.
Romeo’s name lights up on the dash again. “One of their cars lost control during the chase and crashed into a tree. Both men are dead. Salvatore’s still on the tail of one car, the other got away.”
“Fuck!” I slam my fist against the steering wheel. “Bring the bodies in. Maybe we can ID them. And tell Uberto to pull up every available CCTV footage. I want to know exactly who these fuckers are.”
“Already spoke to him and he’s on it. I’ll see you at Carloso.”
After I hang up, the car is eerily quiet.
Who was it this time trying to get rid of me?
I glance over my shoulder to check in on Mariella. She hasn’t moved. Her breathing’s uneven, sharp, and shallow. She’s trying to keep it together, but what happened is overwhelming her.
“Mari,” I say, forcing myself to stay calm, keeping my voice gentle despite the adrenaline still surging through my veins. “I know you’re scared, but I need you to listen to me. We’re safe now, okay?”
She doesn’t answer, but her eyes flick to the mirror for a brief second. The fear in them punches me in the gut.
My chest tightens, anger at whoever’s behind this attack flaring anew. I grip the steering wheel harder, the leather creaking under the pressure.
I want to stop, pull her into my arms, do something, anything, to make her feel better. But I can’t. Not until we’re behind the secured walls of Carloso.
So I drive. And I keep talking, hoping my voice will break through the haze of shock trapping her.
“Mari,” I try again, swallowing down the frustration and helplessness gnawing at me. “Mari, are you with me?”
I watch her in the rearview mirror as she slowly pushes herself up into a sitting position.
“Yes, I’m here,” she finally replies, her voice shaky.
“I’ve been where you are, you know,” I say, keeping my tone low and soothing as I navigate the mostly empty roads. “First time I got caught in an attack like that, I froze. It’s normal. You think you’re ready for anything, but when it actually happens, it’s different.”
Her breath catches, and I can hear her trying to hold back tears.
“How old were you?” she asks, her voice tentative, like she’s forcing herself to engage through the panic.
“Fifteen,” I say, letting the memory surface. “My father brought me to a meeting that was supposed to be routine, but it turned sour. Bullets flew, and I couldn’t move. I hid behind some barrels, too scared to even breathe.”
Her eyes lock onto mine again through the mirror, and I see a flicker of recognition. She’s listening.
“It was terrifying,” I admit. “I couldn’t think, couldn’t react. Tiero had to drag me out of there. I felt weak, but that moment taught me something.”
I wait for her eyes to meet mine in the mirror. When they finally do, I see that talking about my first experience has helped, at least a little.
“It taught me that you get through it,” I continue. “And you learn from it. The next time we were attacked, I was more alert, more agile.
“I never want you to go through this again, Mari. As much as I wish I could promise there won’t be a repeat, I can’t guarantee that.” The truth tastes bitter, but I owe her honesty. “But if it ever does, youwillbe more prepared. And youwillremember you survived this.”
Silence settles in for a moment. Her breathing steadies, though I can still see her fingers trembling.
“A bullet flew right past my face,” she whispers, her voice so quiet I have to strain to hear. “I can still feel it on my skin.”
