chapter 5

ACROSS THE RED ROSE GARDEN

: DEATH

The moment the mansion disappeared from the rearview mirror, the doting, protective husband from the dining room evaporated, leaving behind the cold, lethal stranger I had spent the night with. He pulled out a handkerchief and aggressively wiped the spots where his cheeks had brushed mine for his parents’ display before tossing it onto the leather console between us.

“About last night,” Alessandro said, his voice dropping into the same harsh, cutting baritone he had used.

He didn’t look at me. His gaze remained fixed coldly on the road ahead.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself because of the theater back there. I had syndicate business to attend to. I don’t owe you an apology for leaving you to return home alone, but it was unprofessional to let my family see the cracks in our arrangement. It won’t happen again.”

I hid my racing pulse behind a cold, mocking smile, refusing to let him see how much his sudden shift stung.

“No explanation is necessary, Mr. Hawthorne. I already know exactly what kind of man you are. The mask slips fast, doesn’t it?”

Alessandro’s jaw clenched so hard that a muscle jumped beneath his sharp jawline.

He turned his head slowly, his dark, hooded eyes pinning me to the passenger seat with predatory intensity.

“Listen to me carefully, Arabella,” he murmured, his voice dangerously low, vibrating with the same promise of violence from the night before. “You did well playing the loyal bride in front of my father, but do not mistake my compliance for weakness. After we finish with your parents, we have an immediate syndicate briefing. Our time at the Montaña estate will be strictly limited. You will play your part, you will keep your mouth shut about our sleeping arrangements, and you will ensure you are ready to leave the second I give the signal. Do you understand me?”

“Perfectly,” I spat back, matching his icy tone as I crossed my arms tightly over my chest and turned my back to him, staring out at the blurred city skyline.

He was certainly less loud than his father, but his calculated, venomous control left absolutely no room for error.

The game had officially begun.

And I was trapped in the car with the devil himself.

We arrived at my house.

Before the car could even come to a full stop, I unbuckled my seatbelt, threw the door open, and bolted inside.

“Mamá!” I called out, my chest bursting with excitement at the thought of seeing them.

But the house was deafeningly quiet.

Too quiet.

There were no maids in sight.

No familiar voices.

Nothing.

Alessandro walked in right after me, his posture suddenly tense. His eyes moved across the empty foyer, taking in every corner with the alertness of a man who had learned to recognize danger before it announced itself.

“Something isn’t right,” he muttered, his eyes scanning the empty foyer. “There are no guards outside.”

My eyes widened as his words sank in.

A cold knot twisted in my stomach, and my heart began to hammer violently against my ribs.

A sickening dread washed over me.

“Mamá!” I screamed, taking the stairs two at a time.

Just as I reached the top landing, the distinct metallic click of a gun being loaded echoed down the hallway.

I froze for half a second.

Then I ignored the sound and sprinted toward my parents’ bedroom door.

My feet skidded to a halt.

A dark, thick red liquid was slowly seeping out from underneath the doorframe.

Blood.

My stomach dropped.

For a moment, I couldn’t breathe.

With trembling fingers, I reached out for the brass handle.

Alessandro caught up, stopping right behind me as the horrific reality of the situation clicked into his mind.

I turned the handle and pushed the door open.

Instantly, my arms went entirely numb.

Before my eyes could fully process the horrific sight inside, a heavy, muscular arm wrapped securely around my waist.

Alessandro slammed the door shut with his boot, cutting off the view, and violently yanked me back against his chest.

“Don’t look,” he growled, his voice a low, commanding rasp right against my ear.

I thrashed against his grip, a breathless scream tearing from my throat, but he held me in a vice-like lock.

With one hand trapping me against him, his other hand smoothly drew a sleek black pistol from beneath his jacket.

His eyes scanned the shadows of the hallway, sharp and lethal.

“We’re leaving. Now,” he muttered.

His body acted as a human shield as he began forcing me backward down the stairs, refusing to let me see the blood on the floor again.

My heels dragged against the polished wood of the stairs as he hauled me downward, my vision blurring with hot, angry tears.

“Let me go! Mamá!” I sobbed, hitting his chest, but his grip never faltered.

Suddenly, a shadow detached itself from the darkness of the first-floor foyer.

Bang!

A bullet splintered the wooden banister right above our heads.

Before I could even scream, Alessandro twisted his body, shoving me flat against the staircase wall and using his own back to block me completely.

He fired two deafening shots in rapid succession.

A heavy thud echoed from below.

“Hold onto me,” Alessandro ordered, his voice dangerously calm despite the adrenaline pouring through the air.

He didn’t wait for my answer.

He scooped me up into his arms and sprinted down the remaining steps, leaping over a fallen body and bursting through the front doors into the blinding sunlight.

The car doors flew open.

Alessandro threw me into the back seat and dove in right after me, slamming the door shut as the car violently roared to life and drove off.

In the rearview mirror, a sleek silver car emerged, chasing closely behind us.

Gunfire shattered the silence outside.

Terrified, I curled into a ball, burying my face against my thighs and tightly pressing my hands over my ears to drown out the deafening noise.

The car swerved wildly as a full shootout broke out between the two vehicles.

Suddenly, a loud crack echoed through the cabin.

A bullet punched straight through the glass window, missing me by inches and slamming hard into the back of the front seat.

I screamed, covering my face as shattered glass rained down around me.

Right in front of me, the driver’s head slammed violently against the steering wheel, and the car began to spin out of control.

Before the silver car could pin us against the rail, Alessandro lunged over the console, ruthlessly shoving the dead driver out of the way.

He grabbed the steering wheel with one hand, slammed his foot onto the accelerator, and forced the smoking car back into gear.

The engine roared in a desperate, grinding protest as the tires bit into the asphalt, pulling us away from the guardrail just as a fresh volley of bullets tore through the trunk.

“Stay down!” Alessandro roared, his voice cutting through the chaos like thunder.

I kept myself curled into a tight ball in the footwell, my eyes squeezed shut as the car swerved violently.

Alessandro drove like a madman, weaving through the morning traffic at lethal speeds, using our heavy, armored vehicle to clip the front bumper of the silver car.

The impact sent their vehicle spinning out of control into a guardrail behind us.

Through the shattered rear window, the sounds of gunfire grew distant, replaced only by the frantic panting of my own breath and the loud hum of our damaged engine.

We had broken away.

Alessandro didn’t slow down until we veered into a secluded underground parking garage blocks away from the main highway.

The car drifted into a dark corner and finally died, smoke billowing from the crumpled bonnet.

Silence descended on the cabin.

Alessandro let go of the steering wheel, his knuckles stark white, his chest heaving as he stared out through the windshield to ensure we hadn’t been followed.

For several seconds, neither of us moved.

Slowly, he turned his head to look down at me in the footwell.

What the hell just happened?.