13. Bella
THIRTEEN
Bella
Something feels wrong the moment I step into my bedroom. The air is thick, like a storm is about to break. My skin prickles with unease.
Suddenly, a strong hand clamps over my mouth, yanking me backward off my feet. I struggle, my heart racing, but the grip is ironclad.
“Where is he, bitch?” a gruff voice snarls into my ear. “Tell me or I break your fucking neck.”
Fear floods me, paralyzing me for a split second as the attacker drags me backward. My heart pounds in my ears, drowning out the sound of my own scream. But before I can fully panic, the self-defense techniques from class flash through my mind.
He dumps me on the ground but before he can move in for the kill, I pivot on my heel, using my body weight to send a sharp elbow into his ribs. He grunts in pain, momentarily stunned.
I take advantage of his surprise, grabbing his wrist and twisting it. With a swift movement, I pull him off balance, sending him stumbling backward.
“You’ll pay for that,” he snarls, arms outstretched toward me, fists clenched. “Going to break your teeth for you.”
The bedroom door crashes open, splintering wood and sending a shockwave through the room. Alex bursts in, his face a mask of controlled fury, his eyes locked onto my assailant with deadly intent. “Break your fucking neck first,” he says.
In a heartbeat, Alex is upon the attacker. He delivers a swift punch to the man's gut, doubling him over, then follows up with a knee to the face.
The assailant staggers back, blood streaming from his nose, but Alex doesn't let up.
He spins, delivering a powerful kick that sends the man crashing into the wall. The attacker crumples to the ground, trying to regain his footing.
The assailant, realizing he’s outmatched, tries to scramble away, but Alex is relentless. He moves in with a fluid grace, his every motion precise and deadly.
He grabs the man by the collar, lifting him off his feet, and slams him into the floor with a bone-jarring thud. The attacker groans, dazed and unable to defend himself.
Alex crouches over him, delivering a series of rapid, controlled punches that leave the man gasping for breath. “Don’t you ever touch her again,” Alex growls, his voice low and dangerous. With one final punch, the assailant’s head lolls to the side, unconscious and utterly defeated.
Alex straightens, his chest heaving with exertion, but his eyes immediately seek mine. In two long strides, he's at my side, pulling me into his arms. His embrace is fierce and protective, his body a solid barrier between me and the world.
"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice a low, urgent whisper. He gently brushes a strand of hair from my face, his touch surprisingly tender given the violence that just unfolded.
I nod, my voice failing me as I cling to him. The fear that gripped me moments ago begins to ebb, replaced by a profound sense of relief and safety.
Alex’s presence is a balm to my frayed nerves, and I bury my face in his chest, inhaling the familiar scent of him.
He holds me tightly, one hand cradling the back of my head, the other wrapped securely around my waist. "You're safe now," he murmurs, his breath warm against my ear. "I’ve got you."
Tears prick at my eyes, a mix of residual fear and overwhelming gratitude. I pull back slightly to look at him, my voice shaky. "I thought... I thought he was going to?—"
"Shush," Alex soothes, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. "He’s not going to hurt you. Not while I’m here."
I lean into him, feeling the strength of his arms around me. The terror of the attack still lingers, but it’s overshadowed by the comfort and safety I find in Alex’s embrace.
“This can’t go on,” he says, his voice rough with emotion. “You can’t stay here. It’s too dangerous. These assholes are like cockroaches. I stomp on one and another pops up two minutes later.”
I look up at him, my eyes wide with fear and confusion. “What do they want?” I ask, my voice trembling.
Alex’s jaw tightens. “Something they can’t have.” He glances over at the doorway. “Pack your things. We need to get moving.”
“Move? Where?”
“We have to get married.”
I blink, shocked. “What?”
“It’s the only way to keep you safe,” he continues, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “You’ll have the protection of a mafia family name.”
“Mafia? Did you say mafia?”
“Get packing. Two minutes until we’re gone.” He crosses to the window and looks out.
“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on.”
“My boss needs to find your father,” he replies. “Vince Russo is looking too. It’s vital I get to your dad before Russo’s people do. Now pack it or lose it.”
“Who’s Vince Russo?” I ask, cramming my few things into my case.
“Another mob boss. He’s the one sending all these people after you. He thinks you know where your dad is, thinks he can get you to tell him.”
“But I’ve no idea where my dad is.”
“You’ve got to help me find him before they do. Otherwise we’re all dead. Stay close to me.” He grabs my hand and pulls me into the corridor, turning left, shoving open the door to the stairs.
More men are running up them. “Shit,” Alex snaps, pulling a gun from inside his jacket. “I’ll be back for you,” he adds, and then he’s racing down, moving swiftly and silently toward them.
I press myself against the wall, my heart hammering in my chest as the sounds of the fight reach me. The soft thud of silenced gunshots fills the air, each one sending a jolt of fear through me.
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block out the noise, but it’s impossible. My mind races with thoughts of Alex, hoping he’s okay, praying he’ll come back to me.
Suddenly, the noise stops. The silence is deafening, almost worse than the sounds of the fight. I hold my breath, straining to hear any sign of movement. And then, there he is. Alex reappears. Relief floods through me.
“We need to move,” he says, grabbing my hand and pulling me down the stairs after him. His touch is firm, reassuring. “Now.”
We take the stairs fast, stepping over several bodies. I try not to look at them. When we reach the lobby, Alex turns right, kicking open a staff door.
It’s clear he knows this place like the back of his hand. He takes me down one corridor and then another until we reach a fire exit. He shoves the door open and pulls me through.
“Into the car,” he says, ushering me inside a sleek black sedan.
He jumps into the driver’s seat and we speed away from the hotel, leaving the chaos behind. The tension in the car is palpable, the air thick with unspoken words. I glance over at Alex, his jaw set, his eyes focused on the road.
My mind is racing, trying to process everything that’s happened. Alex’s grip on the steering wheel is tight. The tension between us is thick, but I feel an underlying sense of security with him beside me.
As we weave through the streets, Alex’s expression grows more serious. He pulls into a deserted parking lot, the car coming to a halt. He turns to me, his eyes intense.
“There’s no other way,” he says. “I’ve been over it and over it. We have to get married.”
My heart skips a beat. “But why?” I ask, my voice trembling. “I don’t get it.”
“My name will protect you,” he says, his gaze unwavering.
“Look, I like you but ’m not marrying you. We barely know each other.”
His eyes turn on me and all I can see in his soul is darkness. “I don’t give a shit if you want to marry me or not,” he says coldly. “It’s happening. Get used to the idea.”