Chapter 22
T he chaos around me is a symphony of violence—sharp and brutal, but somehow controlled. Enzo’s men move like a well-oiled machine, springing into action with deadly precision. They’re calm in the storm, each one moving with purpose, doing exactly what I would expect from someone raised in this world. They take cover behind columns, upturned tables, and anything else they can find. They fire with unshakable accuracy, cutting down attackers as they appear. It’s like a dance—if you can call it that—violent, precise, and practiced.
Enzo doesn’t miss a beat. He’s everywhere at once, gun raised, eyes sharp. His movements are fluid and efficient—like he’s done this a thousand times, which I guess he has. I watch as he fires shot after shot, each one hitting its mark, the men around him following his lead without hesitation.
I find myself holding my breath, caught in the moment. There’s something about watching them fight, watching them protect, that makes my chest tighten. It’s not just about survival—it’s about dominance. About being in control of the situation when everything around you is falling apart.
I’m so caught up in the scene, in the rhythm of the fight, that I don’t realize how close the attackers are getting until one of them rushes forward, gun drawn. I grab what’s near, taking a plate that has fallen on the floor, and hurl it like a frisbee, catching the man in the face.
“Fuck yes! Take that, asshole!” My victory is short-lived when there’s a pop next to me. The man goes down, and Enzo’s hand is on my arm, pulling me back behind cover.
“Fucking stay down,” he growls, his voice low and harsh, eyes scanning the room. “It’s not safe.”
It’s a command. And damn him, he knows I’m not going to listen. My gut twists as I watch him and his men push back the invaders, calm and deadly as they take control of the room. But I can’t just sit here, hiding behind a pillar, doing nothing. I have no weapons. I don’t even fucking know how to use a gun. But damn it, I can fight. I need to.
There are innocent people here in harm’s way because of me. I see several motionless bodies on the ground, their clothing telling me they were patrons of the club who lost their lives in this.
I’m about to argue, to break free from his grip, when something catches my eye. Across the room, just past a cluster of gunfire, I see Eloise. She’s huddled in the corner, fear written across her face, with nothing but her hands to protect her. She’s shaking, her eyes darting around in panic, clearly overwhelmed by the chaos unfolding around her.
I swallow hard. I can’t just leave her there, unprotected, while we’re all fighting for our lives.
“Delaney,” he snaps, his voice hard, commanding. “Stay the fuck behind cover until one of my guys can get you out of here.”
Not a fucking chance.
I’m already mapping a route to Eloise, my pulse racing in my ears. The sound of gunfire, the shouting, the chaos—it all fades into the background as I focus on how to get to her.
Crouched on the ground in my heels and dress, I’m about to lunge forward, my path set.
I feel a sharp tug on my arm before I can leap forward. Enzo’s hand is around my wrist, pulling me back. “What the fuck are you doing?” he growls, his voice cold and dangerous.
“I’m not sitting here like a pussy while she’s over there in danger, Enzo.” I yank my arm free, meeting his gaze with fire in my own. “You told me they wouldn’t respect me until they saw I was willing to bleed for it,” I say, my voice low, matching his intensity. “I’m just doing what you said.”
Enzo’s jaw tightens, his eyes flicking to Eloise, then back to me. He takes a step toward me, his voice hard as he grits out, “I didn’t mean right now.”
I cross my arms, defiance radiating off me. “Beggars can’t be choosers. I’m the Capo dei Capi, right? So, we do what the fuck I say—which is, we go save her.”
The tension between us crackles, and for a moment, I think he might snap. But then, with a deep breath, he steps back. “Fine,” he mutters, his voice clipped. “But don’t think for a second you’re doing this without me.”
Enzo gives his team a few hand signals to communicate the plan. He looks like a baseball coach, talking to a runner on base with something that looks eerily similar to interpretive dance.
In a second, there’s a wall of his soldiers in front of us, and several push out, engaging in hand-to-hand combat. Enzo thrusts the black handle of a blade into my hand. “If it’s you or them…always make it them.”
I nod, then we move.
Staying close to the back wall, I run in a crouch to the other side of the ballroom.
“Eloise,” I say, my voice steady despite the chaos. “We need to get you out of here. You’re coming with me.”
She looks up at me, her eyes wide, her mouth trembling. “I—I can’t,” she stammers. “I’m too scared. I?—”
“I’ve got you,” I snap, grabbing her arm and pulling her to her feet. “Trust me. We’ll get you out of here.”
I give Enzo a tight nod, not even a second of hesitation before I reach for Eloise again. She’s frozen, her fear still visible in her trembling form, but with one last look at Enzo, I push forward. “Let’s go,” I say, my voice firm.
She lets me hoist her up. Her age makes it difficult, and I see two others—a couple hiding under a nearby booth.
“We need to get them out,” I hiss at Enzo.
“The panels.” He nods as two men approach him. He raises his handgun like it’s another part of him. Pulling the trigger, a bullet lodges in the head of one. Enzo pulls another knife from somewhere, and it flips through the air, end over end. The serrated blade cuts through its victim with ease until the point exposes itself out the other side of the man’s head.
It’s fucking gross.
“Grab who we can and let’s go, but they get out first,” I call over the noise, and Enzo nods in agreement.
He whistles once, his sharp signal cutting through the mayhem. His team recognizes their boss’s call. “Get them out,” he commands, picking up a discarded gun from the ground and continuing his oppressive fire at the men attacking his club. His girl.
The wall of protection is back, and we get several of the club’s patrons out. Eloise goes first with one of Enzo’s soldiers shielding her.
“Even if we do get out, they’ll just follow us into the walls.” I finally realize there’s nowhere for us to go. We’ll just be chased into secret passages, running like rats in a maze until they gun us down.
My eyes land on the bodies around us. The ninjas—or whatever they are—that fell through the ceiling were some of the first to die. Around their belts, I see what I think are grenades.
“Enzo,” I call out. He half turns to me, but he keeps his eye on his enemies. “Let’s blow up the dining room.”
“What the fuck?” he calls back.
“We’re trapped! We have nowhere to go.”
“Dammit.” He growls, pausing to reload his confiscated gun.
“Here.” I hand him a clip as I look to the window with the river below. “Enzo, blow this place into the sky and take me for a swim.” My gaze is heavy with what we need to do. “It’s not just about protecting me but those who can’t protect themselves.”
Enzo is looking at me and doesn’t see the attacker coming at him from behind. I panic as I call out his name and throw my blade like I just saw him do. I miss my target but get close. The blade slices the assailant’s face badly enough for Enzo to turn and pull his gun.
Two pops later, the man is on the ground, his wide, dead eyes staring at me as his life fades.
“All right. Let’s go for a swim.”