Chapter 19 Charlie
Charlie
Rocco stops the car at the top of the closest hill to the shipment yard.
“Grab this,” Mattia says, tossing me a blanket.
My fingers tremble slightly as I catch it, my nerves raging inside me.
He bends down, sliding the pistol I’ve used many times in training out of his boot.
“I grabbed this for you just in case. Remember to give it back before we catch up with Luciano.” He gives Rocco a look to say, you better not tell the Don, causing Rocco to shift uneasily.
I can tell he doesn’t want to be punished again by Luciano.
I shove the cold metal into my back pocket, hiding it beneath my oversized camo shirt.
Why did I think this outfit was a good idea?
The weight of the gun presses against my skin, a sharp reminder of the dangers lurking around us.
“Thanks,” I mutter, trying to steady my voice as I follow Mattia to the lookout point, Rocco close behind like always.
We spread the blanket beneath the overhanging branches of a nearby tree and lie down, Rocco and Mattia on either side, guarding me. My heart hammers in my chest as my eyes lock onto the empty shipment yard below. It’s lit up like a Christmas tree against the dark night sky.
“Now what?” I whisper.
“We wait.” Mattia sets up his sniper and peers through the scope with an unshakable focus.
I pull out my night vision binoculars from the bag, scanning the area as I watch two cars roll in; our cars.
One of the soldiers rounds the car, and Luciano steps out.
He straightens his suit, his posture oozing power as Stefano and Carlo walk closely behind him.
“Where’s Gabriele?” I whisper. I’ve just realized he didn’t leave with us.
“At home. Gabriele’s strength is behind the scenes, not amongst the chaos,” Mattia says. That makes sense; he’s more a computer geek than a fighter.
My gaze flicks back to Luciano, the man who might be my salvation and my undoing at once.
I watch as two tall men approach Luciano, leading the way towards a shipping container.
My mind races wildly. They must be our men.
Our firearms are inside that container. The two men pry it open, and suddenly three men bolt out, charging towards Luciano with knives drawn.
But Luciano doesn’t flinch. I watch as his whole body changes before my eyes.
He unleashes the demon within him, and it’s terrifyingly magnificent to watch.
He marches towards them with fury. The first man collapses inches away from him, at his feet.
I glance at Mattia, who silently reloads his sniper rifle, not taking his eyes away from his scope.
I force myself to continue watching, my heart pounding, anxiously waiting for this to be over. Carlo and Stefano now have the other two men pinned on their knees, guns pressed to the backs of their heads. Luciano paces before them, shouting.
“What’s happening?” I whisper, desperation tightening my throat.
“Shhh,” Mattia hushes me. I’ve never seen him like this. I turn to Rocco for answers, but his gaze is also fixed on the docks below. He shakes his head to signal shhhh. He won’t answer me either. Great!
Carlo and Stefano release the men, letting them fall in front of them.
Luciano stops pacing, standing still in front of the men.
Then, I notice the subtle signal—a stretch of his neck, a shoulder roll—and Mattia fires.
The second man drops dead. At the same time, the third man tries to run but collapses moments later, clutching his thigh where a bullet found its mark.
“Wow,” I breathe out, awe and fear mingling in my chest as Mattia grins like a kid.
“Like what you see, Red?” He winks, reloading his gun. I’ve only seen that in movies. Looking through the binoculars again, I see Carlo tying the men’s hands, but a noise pricks my ear. Rocco is on his feet within seconds as two more men charge toward us.
“Arghhh!” I scream an ear-piercing note as I scramble to get up, but I trip over my own feet.
Mattia is up instantly, tackling the other guy to the ground. He grabs a knife from his boot and stabs him in the shoulder. “Run, Charlie!” he yells while he wrestles him. I look over at Rocco, who is also battling to stay alive against his attacker.
“Where the hell am I supposed to go?” I shout back, terror clawing at me. Mattia pulls out the knife and drives it into his attacker’s stomach. The car is too risky. There could be others waiting. Think, Charlie…
“Fucking run, Charlotte,” Mattia bellows again with more aggression.
I risk everything, hurling myself down the steep hill, the quickest route to Luciano.
Each jagged rock and sharp stick tears into my skin and rips my clothes as I slide down.
The pain is raw and biting, but the adrenaline starts to flood through me, drowning out the pain.
Every step I run towards the shipment yard is a frantic plea that I need to get Luciano’s attention.
Just one flicker of recognition from him would be my lifeline right now. But he’s still ages away from me.
I push myself harder, channeling the endurance Carlo has drilled into me, ignoring the searing pain down my side. Luciano’s figure is visible through a narrow opening in the trees, but it’s too dark for him to see me.
Snap. A twig breaks behind me, and panic spikes as I spot another man now chasing me. Fuck, how many guys are trying to kill us? I dart faster between the trees. I scream, my voice desperate, “Luciano!”
Fumbling, I pull the gun from my back pocket, firing wild shots behind me. Each bullet misses, but maybe they can slow him down just a bit, or maybe the noise can catch Luciano’s or any of our men’s attention. I scream again, louder, begging silently, Please, Luciano, look this way.
Emerging from the tree edge into the open shipment yard, a sudden, violent yank jerks at my hair, hurling me to the ground and dragging me back into the shadows of the trees.
A scream rips free from my throat as he kicks into my ribs, trying to silence me.
Desperately, I scramble for the gun I dropped, my fingertips brushing against the cold metal only for him to stand on my hand, crushing it beneath his boot.
Ouch! I turn my head, catching sight of Luciano through the trees.
He’s heard me, but he can’t see me, those damn trees and darkness of the night blocking his view.
Why can’t he have Mattia’s amazing hearing?
“Luciano!” I scream again and again, only angering this man further.
His eyes snap sharply toward me. He may not see me yet, but he’s looking. He finally hears me. His fingers signal, and I see Carlo, Stefano, and two of our soldiers moving fast in my direction.
The man snarls, spitting at me, “Not today, whore.” He hauls me up, and I know that if he succeeds, I’m done for. Panic surges within me. Not again. I won’t let this happen to me again.
Carlo’s voice enters my head: Find his weak point.
I fight back fiercely, trying to claw at him enough that I can drive my knee between his legs.
He crumples to the floor, clutching his balls in his hands, but I don’t stop.
I start to kick him relentlessly in his ribs and stomach.
I’m just about to stomp on his head when his hand reaches out to grab my foot, pulling me down to the ground.
Within seconds, he’s on top of me, straddling me so I can’t move.
“You’ll pay for that,” he growls, his hands closing around my neck.
I choke for air, terror gripping me. My hands try to reach for his, trying to loosen his grip, but he’s too strong and pushes down harder as darkness edges my vision.
A sickening thud and dead weight falls on top of me, followed by warm blood splattering across me.
I freeze, too shocked to scream or move.
I close my eyes and silently beg for it to be over.
Luciano shakes me urgently. “Charlotte,” his voice tinges with panic. I didn’t notice him move the body off me. “Where’s Mattia?”
My eyes snap open. Mattia and Rocco were wrestling the other men on the hill. “Hill. We were attacked,” I gasp, struggling to breathe.
Luciano helps me sit up. “What was the last thing you saw?”
I shut my eyes, trying to piece it together. “He was wrestling a guy. Mattia stabbed him in the shoulder and stomach. He told me to run.”
“You did good, Charlie.” Luciano’s voice softens before he turns to Carlo and Stefano. “Take any hostages to the bunker and dispose of the bodies. We have a rat.”
Carlo’s grin is cruel, eager for what’s next; his specialty. “With pleasure.” He snaps his fingers as two of our soldiers move forward and haul the dead body away from me.
Luciano lifts me off the ground, carrying me out of the tree’s edge. “Put me down, Luciano,” I say, struggling in his grasp.
“No.”
“I need to find Mattia,” I insist, urgency thick in my voice while I writhe against him.
A flicker of irritation and jealousy crosses his face. “He’s fine.”
“You don’t know that.” I shove at him hard, refusal burning in my chest.
Luciano puts me on the back seat of the waiting car and pulls out his phone, listening for a dial tone before passing it to me.
I stare at him, skeptical, until I hear Mattia’s voice. “Is Charlie with you?” he asks with same urgency as me.
“Mattia, you’re alive!” I shout into the phone, causing him to chuckle on the other end.
“It takes a lot more than that to kill me, Red,” he says. “I’ll see you at home. Pass Luciano the phone.”
I do as he says and watch Luciano’s reaction. “Take him to the bunker,” Luciano says. “We will meet you there.”
“I’m coming with you,” I say.
“No,” he growls. “You’re going back to the house.”
I try climbing out the car, but he blocks me in.
He turns to our soldier in the front seat—a man I’ve seen around the estate.
“Take her home and make sure she enters.” He grabs my legs and pushes me back into the car.
I claw at him desperately as he slams the door.
I reach for the handle and tug, but it’s locked.
“Let me out,” I demand the soldier.
“Sorry, the Don gave me orders.” He turns back before driving away from the shipment yard.
I look out the back window and see Luciano staring at our car as we drive away.
His eyes flicker with the usual protectiveness he has for me, along with a flicker of something else that’s too quick to recognize.
The wait at the mansion for Luciano and the brothers to get back feels endless. Rosa has me get looked over by our doctor and tries to make me sit and watch a movie, but how can I sit still? I don’t know where Luciano or the brothers are. How am I supposed to know if they’re okay or not?
It’s early into the morning when the front door slams open and I bolt to the foyer. “Finally!” I leap into Luciano’s arms.
“Principessa,” he murmurs, but his arms hang by his side, not hugging me back. His clothes feel wet, and when I pull back, he’s covered head to toe in blood.
“Are you hurt?” I ask. I start patting him all over, trying to find where it’s coming from.
“It’s not mine,” he growls, his cold eyes locking on me.
“Thank fuck for that.” I take his hand and lead him upstairs towards his room.
“What are you doing?” he asks as we enter his bathroom.
“What does it look like?” I start to undress him, but he pushes my hands away and continues to undress himself, chucking his bloodied clothes in the bin. He steps into the shower without a glance in my direction.
He’s not going to push me away. I strip off and climb into the shower with him.
Turning on the second shower head, I let the water fall over me, keeping my eyes locked on Luciano.
He stands still, his back to me, his arms and head leaning against the wall.
His mind is elsewhere. I slowly move closer to him, wrapping my arms around him so my naked body touches his, and I rest my head on his back.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask softly.
“No.”
“You don’t have to do this alone anymore,” I remind him, sliding my hand down to his cock, stroking him slowly.
He catches my hand with a firm grip to hold it against him. The silence stretches between us. He lets go, turning around to face me. His big hands grip my cheeks, pulling me into him. His kiss is different; there’s more urgency behind it. His hands start to roam all over me.
“I need to fuck you,” he breathes between kisses.
“Yes.” He lifts me and I wrap my legs around his waist as he slams me against the shower wall. His mouth finds my nipple and plays with my piercing, teasing me. I grab a fistful of his hair and pull his head back until his eyes lock with mine.
“Principessa,” he growls.
He needs to release whatever is eating him up, so I whisper, “Use me.”
His eyes darken instantly. He lowers me back to the floor and steps out of the shower, dripping wet. Fuck. I follow him into the bedroom, both of us leaving a wet trail behind.
“Luciano.” When his gaze draws back to me, I step closer, uncertain how he’s going to react. “Use me, Luciano. Fuck me raw. Take your anger out on me.”
“Why the fuck would you want that?” he spits back at me.
“Because I care about you.”
He stares at me, disbelief flickering across his features, like he’s not sure he heard me right.