Chapter 20
Mario Luciano
No human being can defend themselves against nine men, but for the sake of my wife, I will.
Noah will come. He’ll bring more fighters.
Valentina’s mad dash through the traffic marks the end of our standoff. Six men lunge toward me while three scramble after my wife.
I refuse to pull out my pistol until she’s safely on the other side of the road.
The man closest to Valentina gets hit by a car before he clears the first lane. I dodge the first fist swung at me and surge upward, clocking the man under the chin with the sights of my pistol.
Valentina reaches the middle of the road as I shove the next man into his buddy.
My wife steps onto the curb on the far side of the road. I twist out of the path of my next assailant’s knife and shoot the two closest men in the gut. Cars honk and people scream as I shift my aim and send a third man to the ground with a pull of the trigger.
Bullets whiz past me. Fiery pain lances through my hip. I curse and step behind the trash can while returning fire and dropping the fourth man. Despite the danger to myself, I shift my aim to the men chasing Valentina and shoot one in the back of the head, but the other ducks into the crowd.
Noah and a dozen other people jump out of cars in the middle of the intersection and run toward me. I gesture for Noah to find Valentina. He changes direction. Half of his entourage follows him while the other half heads toward me.
A bullet grazes my arm. I hiss and return fire.
The only remaining uninjured attacker turns and flees. Three of my men chase after him.
In broad daylight with traffic rushing past, my men pull their cars from the intersection to the curb, bind the men still alive, and toss them into trunks. I stalk to the other side of the road.
“Boss!” Noah yells as he jogs toward me. “We can’t find her. She’s gone.”
My vision narrows as he holds up a phone with a crushed screen.
Valentina’s phone.
“Track her purse. Now,” I snarl.
“I am, but…” Noah points his phone screen toward me.
The trackers are a dull grey instead of red, indicating her kidnapper already found them all and turned them off.
“Fucking find her,” I demand.
“We’re checking all the nearest alleys and shops,” Noah says.
I snarl. It’s not enough. I need mia paperotta in my arms right now.
“They’ll keep searching until they find her. We’re going to Pietro’s nearest hideout. Send a group to his most frequented places, too.”
“Of course, boss. We’ll find her.”
With a growl of frustration at my own failure, I hijack a car and floor the gas the moment Noah shuts his door.
I jump curbs, run red lights, swerve between lanes, swing around corners, and pull up to the old brick building’s front door in record time, but it isn’t fast enough.
I exit the car, stalk into the building, and rush up the stairs to the apartment Pietro has been using since he lost all his money.
The crappy door is only as strong as the hinges and locks, so Noah kicks it in with ease.
I dart inside, shoot the first man in the head, and shift my aim to the second man’s head.
He lifts his hands to shoulder height. Needing an outlet for my fury, I prowl forward, bury my fist in his face, and slam my toes into his stomach a few times before rolling him onto his back with my foot.
Noah settles his foot on the bastardo’s sternum and points his muzzle at his face.
“Where’s Pietro?” I demand.
“I don’t know,” the idiot says.
I shoot him in the leg. He writhes and screams, but Noah keeps him pinned to the floor.
“I don’t like repeating myself,” I snarl as I step on his wound.
Blood squishes under my shoe. I grind my sole harder into him.
“He has an apartment three floors up. His buddy just rented it when he got into town,” the lackey stutters.
“What number?” I demand.
He screams an answer.
I bury a bullet in his brain, turn, and stalk out of the apartment.
As I take the stairs three at a time with Noah on my heels, I reload my pistol and pull out my knife. With only one thought replaying in my mind, I don’t feel the agony in my hip or the pain in my arm.
I must find my wife.
Valentina’s knife was in her pocket, not her purse, but it wasn’t hidden well. I prepare for the worst while demanding the best outcome. My wife will be fine. I will love and cherish mia paperotta for decades to come.
I burst through the door to the appropriate floor, check the sign, and rush down the hall.
A gaggle of kids sits in the hall playing cards, but they scurry into an apartment and shut the door behind them when I turn the corner.
With one furious kick, I break the door down and duck into the apartment.
Valentina hisses through her gag and catches herself with her bound hands on the counter before her father tugs her in front of him and presses his muzzle against her temple. The pezzo di merda uses her as a shield.
“Drop the gun,” he demands.
I toss it aside. Blood streams down my arm from both my new graze and yesterday’s injury.
Valentina’s eyes burn a deep cerulean as she studies the crimson staining my sleeve and hip.
“Be still, baby,” he murmurs into her ear.
Disgust fills her expression.
She flicks her gaze toward the back of the apartment.
Pietro’s friend.
Noah stands vigil in the hall. He no doubt called for help already.
“Sit in the chair,” Pietro demands.
I lock eyes with Valentina and follow his demand.
He tosses a pair of handcuffs onto the floor at my feet.
“Through the bars behind you,” Pietro hisses.
He waits until the cuffs click closed around my wrists before he calls out to Noah.
“Toss your weapons on the floor and come in with hands up. One wrong move and they both die,” he hisses.
Noah throws two pistols and a knife through the doorway.
Pure hatred fuels me as I stare at my ex-best-friend. The evil mania in his eyes only makes me hate him more.
He ruined everything, starting with stealing Valentina’s journal and lying about her confession.
As Noah ducks through the shattered door, a massive frame fills the back hallway.
I curl my hands into fists.
My brother points his gun at Noah’s head.
I should’ve known he would be here. I should’ve expected him to be involved in this, but for the sake of our parents and his daughter, I gave him the benefit of the doubt.
I was a fool.
Valentina is in danger because of me. I’ll never forgive myself.
The depth of my brother’s involvement doesn’t matter. My failure is why we’re in this situation.
“Look at you, big brother. Not looking so strong now, are you? You should’ve just died in that alley like I’d planned,” Alessio says.
Fury flashes across Pietro’s features. My brother and ex-best-friend never got along well, but Alessio was the strongest man we had and Pietro loved exploiting other people’s strengths.
“That’s right. I planned,” my brother says. “I overheard Valentina telling Sierra her secret crush was you, so I stole the journal and gave it to Pietro. The rest, well…” Valentina gasps, but when I don’t react, he scowls, jerks his muzzle toward me, and addresses Noah. “Flip his pockets.”
Noah strides to me, digs his hand into my jeans pocket, and tugs the lining out. Coins scatter over the floor. He moves around behind me and sticks his hand in my other pocket.
Valentina’s eyes drift to the counter. When I realize what sits on top, I capture her gaze and glare.
No, she will not reach for the knife. I don’t care if it’s the one I gave her. The one Pietro used to stab me in the back a decade ago. The one I told her I wanted her to bury into her father at our wedding. The one she said she’d love to see in Pietro’s flesh.
She can’t risk getting hurt.
My stubborn woman glares right back at me.
Noah turns my other pocket inside out. Nothing but lint drifts down to the floor. The kid wedges his hand behind my butt to grab my wallet.
“What the fuck are you doing? Move away from him,” Pietro demands.
Alessio scowls.
Noah lifts his hand. Alessio stiffens and Pietro jerks his barrel toward the kid’s head when they realize his hand isn’t empty.
Valentina lunges forward.
Chaos erupts. Bullets fly. White-hot agony streaks across my ribs as I catch Pietro’s first shot.
I accept the pain without regret. If he’s shooting me, he’s not hurting Valentina.
Noah tilts my chair sideways with a shove and dives for his pistol.
Wood splinters. I wrench my arms and roll free of the broken chair and toward the kitchen.
With my arms still cuffed behind my back, I get my legs under me and lunge across the room.
Pietro’s gun retorts again, but I slam into him, knocking him backward. My heart skips a beat as he drags Valentina down with us.
My head slams into the front of the fridge. The world blips white, but I force my eyes open and will them to work.
Wet squishes, gurgling, and a muffled feminine scream filter in through the ringing in my ears.
My senses return in a painful rush.
Valentina straddles Pietro and stabs him over and over again, lifting the knife above her head and throwing her entire body into burying the blade into his torso with her bound wrists.
I can’t take my eyes off her. She’s a gorgeous, vicious goddess striking down the idiot who dared harm her. She’s the feminine version of the monster inside me. With blood dripping from her hair and vengeance sparkling in her bright blue eyes, she’s the redemption I never thought I could have.
She completes my revenge with a dazzling savageness I could have never obtained.
Noah curses and kicks something in the bedroom before rushing back to us.
His fuck barely registers, but when he moves to stop her, I snarl and peel my eyes away from her.
“Uncuff me,” I snarl.
He pulls a universal key from his pocket and unlocks my restraints.
I pull my arms in front of me, sit up, and wrap my hand around Valentina’s. Her dainty fingers tighten on the hilt.
I shove the blade deeper into Pietro’s dead body, lodging the knife in his bones.
Valentina jerks it upward, but it doesn’t budge. The gag muffles her snarl and grunt. I reach for her gag, but she flinches away.
“Calm down, mia paperotta . I’m here,” I say.
The frenzy fades from her eyes. Emotions wrack her chest. I pull the gag out of her mouth, peel her hands off the knife, and gather her into my lap.
“You’re safe. Everything will be okay,” I murmur into her filthy hair.
“No it won’t. My nightmares.” She sobs so hard I fear she’ll hurt herself.
“He killed Mamma.” She struggles to breathe.
“In the hall. He beat her to death.” Her fist thumps against my sternum.
“I heard it all while I slept, but I believed him when he said she abandoned me.” Tears and snot rain down her face, but she’s still the most gorgeous woman in the world.
“I don’t deserve happiness, Mario. I’m a selfish, spoiled—”
“You were twelve, Valentina. Twelve. It’s not your fault. You were a victim, too,” I say.
She shakes her head, nods, then devolves into heart-wrenching sobs.
I hug her to me.
Pietro’s empty eyes stare up at the ceiling. With his limbs askew from his fall, his neck at an odd angle, and his torso a gruesome picture of julienned organs and mangled bones, I’m not sure what killed him, but he’s dead.
Relief spears through me.
There were other people in the room.
I turn to Noah. Other than some abrasions on his arms and a gash on his cheek, he seems fine.
“Alessio went down the fire escape. I sent people to hunt him, but I couldn’t leave you,” he says.
“You did well, kid.”
Reinforcements rush in from the hall.
“Let’s go before the pigs get here,” he says.
I nod, but my injuries flare to life and fatigue plagues me as my adrenaline fades. Noah recognizes my pain and moves behind me. With his help, I rise with Valentina in my arms. My head swims from blood loss.
“I can’t carry her,” I snarl.
“Yes you can, boss. No one else would dare,” Noah says.
He gestures for another man to take my other side.
Wanting to leave on my own two feet but unwilling to risk my wife’s safety, I open my mouth to argue.
Donna steps into the apartment.
“I’ll take her,” she says.
“I can walk,” Valentina says.
With her wrists still bound, she grabs my collar.
“Put me down. You’re hurt,” she demands.
The world tilts. Her voice sounds from far away. I open my eyes and smirk in delight at the fierceness in her expression.
“I swear, if you die, I’ll drag you back to life and kill you again ,” she snarls.
I get my feet back under me, upright solely because Noah and the soldier hold me up, and frame her face with my hands.
“This is nothing, mia paperotta . I’ll be fine,” I vow.
“You’d better be. Let’s get him to the hospital—and I swear, if you say we’re going home, I’ll punch you in the dick. There’s blood everywhere.”
I don’t tell her most of it belongs to her father. Her dead father. Worrying over me keeps her in the present instead of dwelling on what she did in the heat of the moment.
“Don’t worry, amore mio . We’re going to the hospital,” I confirm.
“Good, because punching your dick is not what I want to do to it. Let’s go. Now.”
I stumble through the building and drop into the cargo area of an SUV thanks to the two men propping me up. Valentina climbs in and sits next to my head as Noah begins field dressing the worst of my wounds.
My mind fades in and out. Valentina grabs my face and taps my cheek.
“You promised me, Mario,” she says.
I cup her cheek.
“I did. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always be by your side,” I vow.
She nods and brushes my hair back from my face, smearing blood over me, but I don’t give a shit.
“I love you, Valentina,” I say.
She pauses for a second before leaning her face down to mine.
“I love you, too, Mario,” she says.
I grab her nape and pull her lips down to mine. She kisses me with the desperation of a starving woman, and I relish her boldness for a while before I enjoy conquering her with teeth and tongue.
When I slip my hand around to her throat and gently lift her away, her breath ghosts over my face and hunger, love, and devotion shine from her bright blue eyes.
She’s mine. All mine.
Forever.