Page 20 of Stefano
Her sobs break open against my chest, her body trembling violently.I cradle her head, fury and relief crashing through me like a tidal wave.
“I’ve got you,” I rasp, my voice raw.“You’re safe now.I’ve got you.”
Around us, the gunfire fades.Cartel men lie dead, soldiers sweeping through to finish the stragglers.Severu curses under his breath, shaking his head.Mancuso lets out a low whistle while Alceu barks orders to clear the scene.
But none of it matters.All that matters is the woman in my arms.
Her wrists are raw from the ties, her cheek swollen from a slap, and her dress torn.But she’s alive.She’s breathing.And she’s looking at me like I’m not a monster, but a savior.
Her fingers clutch my shirt, desperate, as if letting go will mean letting go of herself.I press my lips to her hair, breathing her in, grounding myself in the fact that she’s real.She’s here.And I’ll never let anyone take her from me again.
Severu steps closer, his voice low.“You went full darkness back there.”
I glance at him over Andrea’s head, my eyes cold.“I’ll go darker if it keeps her safe.”
His gaze flickers, a warning in it.But he says nothing more.
I lift Andrea into my arms, her body curling instinctively against me.She’s light, too light, but she’s warm.And she is alive.My chest tightens as I carry her through the ruined warehouse, past bodies and blood and smoke.
Outside, the night air hits her face.She breathes deep, shuddering, and clings tighter to me.Soldiers fan out, checking corners, but I don’t stop.I carry her straight to the SUV waiting at the edge of the dock.
The world can burn around us.I don’t care.Because I have her back.And now that I do, I’ll never let go.
Chapter Twelve
Aftermath
Andrea
The ride back to the compound is a blur.My body curls instinctively against Stefano’s chest, his arms iron bands around me as if he thinks I’ll disappear if he lets go.The SUV jolts over potholes, the engine growls lowly while men mutter low into radios, but none of it penetrates the fog I’m in.
I’m alive.That’s the thought that keeps circling.I’m alive.I’m not in that chair anymore.I’m not tied down.I’m not listening to Matías’s threats or the sick laughter of his men, worrying when they will stop listening to him and come for me.And I’m not being used as shield.
I’m pressed against Stefano’s heart, and every beat under my ear is proof that he came for me.I bury my face against his shirt, inhaling the sharp mix of smoke, sweat, and gunpowder clinging to him.It should scare me, the scent of violence and death, but instead it calms me.Because it’s him.Because it means he fought for me.Because it means I’m safe.
His hand strokes my hair, his palm steady despite the tremor in his chest.“It’s over,” he murmurs, his voice rough with exhaustion and fury.“You’re safe now, Andrea.”
