Chapter 17
The SUV’s engine rumbled low as it left the city streets behind.
Inside the vehicle, the silence was dense, almost suffocating.
Sara sat in the back seat, arms wrapped around her belly, trying to process everything that had happened in the last few hours.
Her house had been attacked. Armed men had turned her life into a nightmare in a matter of minutes.
And now she was running—running beside Vincenzo, with no idea if she would ever have a normal life again.
In the front seat, Vincenzo kept his eyes fixed on the road.
His hands gripped the steering wheel with controlled force, knuckles white.
His jaw was locked, every muscle in his body on maximum alert.
Beside him, Eleonora watched the road ahead while constantly checking the rearview mirror, her eyes sharp and calculating. She seemed completely in her element.
“For now it looks like everything’s clear,” she said in a calm, almost serene voice.
Vincenzo didn’t answer right away. Only after a few seconds did he murmur, without taking his eyes off the road:
“We’ll only be safe when we reach the mountains.”
Sara watched the two of them in silence.
Eleonora seemed so at ease with the situation that it was almost frightening.
What kind of world had she stepped into?
People used to shooting, killing, running as if it were routine…
She closed her eyes and brought a hand to her face, trying to control her breathing and not sink into dark thoughts.
Eleonora seemed to notice her discomfort in the mirror.
“Sara… are you okay? Feeling sick?”
Vincenzo turned his head quickly, worried.
“*Amore*… if you feel anything at all, tell me. I’m right here with you.”
Sara felt her chest tighten at their concern, but her voice came out low and tired:
“I’m fine, guys… Everything’s fine.”
Eleonora exchanged a quick look with Vincenzo and spoke softly, almost only to him:
“She must be really upset…”
Vincenzo tightened his grip on the wheel.
His eyes met Sara’s reflection in the rearview mirror for a second.
His chest ached seeing her so quiet, so curled up in the back seat.
For the first time in a long while, he felt real fear—not of being hit by a bullet, but of losing her.
Of her deciding she couldn’t take this world anymore and simply leaving.
Of never being able to touch her, hold her, have her in his bed again.
That was when Mateo’s voice exploded over the communicator, tense:
“Vincenzo.”
He answered immediately:
“Talk.”
“Looks like we’ve got company. We’re being followed by three black jeeps.”
Anger rose hot in Vincenzo’s chest. He hated running. Hunting was what he did best. But now he had Sara and the baby to protect, and that changed everything.
“Are they armed?”
“Hard to say. But they’re closing in fast.”
Eleonora swore under her breath:
“Damn it…”
Sara heard the agitation and curled up even more in the seat, almost folding in on herself.
The pregnancy amplified every emotion: the fear, the sensitivity, the tightness in her chest. Tears burned her eyes.
For a second, she thought about asking them to leave her behind.
Maybe the men were after Vincenzo and not her.
Maybe if she got out of the car, everyone would be safe.
Eleonora turned to look at the vehicles behind them, then at Sara.
“Oh, Sara…”
It hurt Eleonora’s heart to see her friend’s woman so vulnerable. She had curled up and covered her face with one arm.
The mafia princess’s concern caught Vincenzo’s attention. He glanced back quickly.
“Sara, it’s almost over, *amore*. Hang on just a little longer. I’m right here with you. Be strong just a little longer.”
Sara didn’t answer.
Then everything happened very fast.
The crack of gunfire echoed across the highway.
The escort SUV behind them was hit first—glass shattered and the vehicle started to weave.
Vincenzo’s men responded immediately with bursts of fire.
Tires screeched on the asphalt. Cars swerved at high speed.
Horns blared in panic. Chaos took over the road in a matter of seconds.
Vincenzo cursed under his breath, looking in the rearview mirror.
“They’re trying to box us in!”
Mateo shouted over the communicator:
“Don’t let them pass!”
The brothers’ SUV accelerated hard, changing lanes to block the pursuers’ path. Lorenzo, as always, leaned half his body out the window and started shooting at the enemies with terrifying precision.
“That idiot’s going to get himself killed,” Vincenzo muttered.
Eleonora answered without taking her eyes off the road:
“He’ll die happy. He loves this shit.”
One of the enemy jeeps managed to get past and came straight at them, accelerating.
“Shit,” Vincenzo growled.
Eleonora was already reaching out:
“Give me the wheel.”
He didn’t argue. He trusted her completely. In a quick move, he switched places with Eleonora, who took the wheel without losing pace. Vincenzo threw himself into the back seat, landing over Sara.
She widened her eyes, startled.
“What are you going to do?”
“Stay down,” he ordered, already opening the hidden compartment behind the seat. Several weapons were organized there. He grabbed a rifle, loaded it with precise, trained movements.
“God…”
“Don’t look, *Amore*…”
But it was impossible not to look.
Vincenzo partially opened the rear door. Cold wind slammed into the car. The highway rushed past beneath them. He positioned himself, bracing his body firmly, aimed, and fired.
The shot was deafening inside the vehicle.
Sara covered her ears, trembling. Another shot.
Then another. The enemy car kept coming.
Vincenzo aimed again, cold and precise. The jeep’s driver lost control.
The vehicle spun violently, rolled several times across the asphalt, and flipped hard.
Seconds later, a violent explosion lit up the road behind them—a fireball rose into the sky, forcing several cars to brake sharply.
Traffic locked up. The chase was interrupted.
At least for now.
Vincenzo slammed the door shut, stowed the rifle, and breathed heavily. Adrenaline still burned in his veins. The first thing he did was turn to Sara and hold her face with both hands.
“Are you okay? Look at me.”
She nodded, pale, still shaking. She had seen everything—the shot, the car flipping, the explosion. Vincenzo pulled her close, wrapping a protective arm around her shoulders and holding her against his chest.
“I’m here,” he murmured against her hair. “I’m here, *amore*. No one’s going to hurt you.”
Eleonora slowed down when they left the main highway. The dirt road began climbing toward the mountains. The trees grew denser, the air colder, the fog thicker.
Only then did Vincenzo pick up the communicator again.
“Mateo?”
Silence.
“Lorenzo?”
Nothing.
His stomach dropped. He tried one more time, voice more urgent:
“Mateo, answer, damn it!”
Only static.
Eleonora grew serious but kept driving steadily. She knew they couldn’t stop now.
The minutes passed in heavy silence. The road climbed steeper and steeper. The trees closed in around them. And then, twenty minutes later, at the top of a slope, a small, isolated building appeared among the pines.
The cabin.
Eleonora let out a sigh of relief.
“I think we’re here.”
Vincenzo didn’t answer. He kept holding Sara against him, but his eyes stayed fixed on the communicator, waiting for any sign from his brothers. For the first time since the start of that escape, the fear tightening his chest wasn’t for himself. Or for Sara.
It was for the two who had been left behind.