That Time I Accidentally Took Over the Mafia (Accidental)

Chapter 42

I may have a heart attack as I move quietly through the safe room’s door, my heart pounding in my chest. The spatula tucked into my belt feels more like an old friend than a weapon, but right now, it’s the only thing keeping me sane. I’ve got my silenced gun in hand, and I’m determined to do this. The sound of fists landing on flesh, followed by the crash of Luca and Nico slamming into walls, barely registers as I creep into the kitchen, trying not to draw attention.

I contemplate just shooting Nico, but I can’t risk hitting Luca. I’m not a good enough shot, and they’re all over each other. Trying hard to push their brawl out of my mind, I ready myself for the next few minutes. I can do this.

“If it’s you or them… always make it them.”

All right, get ready, motherfuckers. Time to kill some bad guys.

My focus sharpens as I hear movement from the hallway beyond. The six gunmen are making their way to the center of the home where the fight is happening. One of them is creeping toward the large room behind Luca, who is too busy with Nico.

I crouch low behind the kitchen counter, silently moving into position. The adrenaline thrums in my veins, but I force myself to focus. My hands are steady, though my legs are shaking. I adjust my grip on the gun and brace my stance, keeping my eyes locked on the empty space beyond the living room.

The seconds drag by as I wait, heart hammering. My breath is shallow, but I know better than to let it shake my aim.

Then I see the shadow—just a flicker, but enough. My target moves, and I track him as he crosses the space. He’s almost in place.

I hold my breath, steadying my gun. The world around me feels like it’s slowing down, every second stretched as I wait for the perfect shot. His shadow inches closer, my finger hovering over the trigger.

Then—I pull the trigger.

The shot is silent. The only sound is the crack of glass as I shatter the window behind him, sending shards flying into the air. The first gunman drops, his body falling back as I hit my mark.

I exhale, feeling the rush of success flood through me. It’s not the loud, triumphant feeling I imagined. Instead, it’s the steady calm that comes from knowing I did what I had to do.

Luca’s attention snaps to me, and it costs him a punch to the jaw. He knows I’m out of the safe room, and I can tell by the scowl in his eyes that he hates it. But he can’t do anything else but focus on Nico.

And I’ve got five more guys to look out for.

I reposition myself quickly, keeping the counter between me and the hall. The next two are coming from the left—I can feel it in my gut. They’re smart, working in tandem, trying to corner me. I steady my breath, the gun firm in my hands, my heart pumping adrenaline into my veins.

As they step into my line of sight, I aim. The shot rings out, but it’s too high, the bullet grazing the wall just beside one of their heads. They duck back into the hall, and I curse under my breath.

I move swiftly, just like I saw Luca do—striking, then shifting my position across the kitchen. I can hear their footsteps—quick, sharp. They’re close. The tension builds in my chest as I ready myself for the next move.

Good thing I moved when I did.

One of the men bursts out from the hallway, gun raised, firing where I had just been. My pulse spikes, but I’m already moving, sliding behind the fridge for cover. I wait, breath shallow, and then aim again. This time, I don’t miss.

The bullet hits his shoulder first, sending him stumbling back. I don’t hesitate. Jax’s voice replays in my mind, reminding me to make small adjustments, not big movements.

I fire again, hitting his neck. The man crumples, and my stomach churns at the sight of the blood on the wall. The shot feels wrong, the finality of it weighing heavily on me. But I push it aside, focusing on the next targets.

I take a deep breath, trying to silence the rush of guilt. I think back to the targets in the shooting range and the promise of a reward for each one hit. It’s just like that, Delaney. The targets are just… a little different.

Four more to go.

I hear them before I see them and position my gun at what I think should be the right height to land a body shot—the next two rounding the corner together, unaware of me. They’ve just stepped into my sight when I pull the trigger, taking one down with a shot to the head.

My heart skips a beat as his head explodes on the wall behind him. There’s so much blood—I didn’t think that could be real. That kind of thing only happened in movies. But my stomach sinks as I watch the red blood and bits of brain slide down the white wall.

I don’t have time to breathe before a shot is fired at me, and I duck, narrowly missing the bullets. My cover’s blown.

I wait for a break, but when I rise up, Luca is already firing two shots, taking down both of my shooters. He must have retrieved it from the floor. He turns the gun on Nico and pulls the trigger.

The loud click snaps through the air—the gun is out of bullets. Nico charges Luca, barreling into him like a football player. He pushes Luca into the wall behind him.

I’ve got one more man to find.

The final attacker retreated into the hallway when I shot the other guy in the shoulder, so I know which way he’ll be coming from.

Luca raises his gun and brings it down hard on Nico’s skull, and I swear I hear the sickening crack of bone. Luca strikes again and again, bringing Nico to the ground.

I crouch down, placing my gun on the counter. Sliding the spatula out of my belt, I suddenly feel a rush of air behind me and hear the thud of boots on the wooden floor.

There’s a click behind me and the unmistakable cold press of a gun against the back of my head.

“Don’t fucking move,” the voice growls, low and gravelly, sending a cold shiver down my spine.

I close my eyes and release a sigh. Fuck.

I forgot about the hole in the ceiling from Luca.

My hand is near the second gun on my other thigh, and by some miracle, it’s on the side of my dominant hand. The spatula is in my left hand, and I can feel the heat of the man as he takes a step closer. He’s right behind me as Luca continues bashing Nico’s face. His hands are coated in blood, and I know it’s not his. It’s his enemy’s.

Gripping the spatula, I flex my fingers and prepare myself. I try to move all at once—small adjustments, not big movements. At the last second, I ram the metal handle of the spatula back, driving it hard into the crotch of the man holding me at gunpoint.

At the same time, I duck and pull my gun.

He fires a silenced shot, but it hits somewhere high on the wall behind me. I spin with my arm extended and level my gun at him. I pull the trigger.

The blast of my gun booms around the home like a cannon. The warmth of his blood splatters on me as his body thuds to the floor in front of me.

I turn to Luca at the same time he snaps his head to me. The terror on his face is quickly erased by relief when he sees I wasn’t the one shot.

Luca gets off a lifeless Nico, and I try not to look at his face, but I catch a small glimpse. Let’s just say I’ll never look at ground beef the same way again.

“Are you okay?” Luca flings the brass knuckles away as I drop my gun, and we race toward each other across the room. I half jump into his arms as we collide, our mouths crashing together, tears free-falling down my face.

We’re both covered in other people’s blood, and bodies litter the floor like confetti after the ball drops in Times Square. It doesn’t matter. We made it.

He pulls away from me, clasping the sides of my face with his hands. “You’re okay? Are you hurt?”

I shake my head, catching my breath. “Enzo and Jax are?—”

The sound of an explosion rattles us and shakes the house. Luca wraps his arms around me, turning me away as a black SUV plows into the home, splintering wood and shattering glass until it comes to an abrupt stop with its front half in Luca’s living room.

Enzo and Jax explode out of the car with guns drawn.

“Enzo and Jax are here,” I finish my sentence, breathless.