10

TIFFANY WEST

My breath escaped me in one rush as Lorenzo pressed his body deeper into mine. I could feel every inch of him against me.

“Lorenzo,” His name was barely a whisper against my lips, but I clung to him desperately like he was my lifeline. Tears blurred my vision, but I held them back.

His gaze leveled to the open wound in my hand. They remained there for more than a second. His jaw clenched hard and muscles grew taut beneath my palm. When he brought his ice-blue eyes back to me, the darkness in his soul had licked into his eyes, filling them with black. His gaze held a silent promise of retaliation.

“Where are you hiding whore? Viktor wants to see his fucking whore, fortunately, he doesn't care if we bring you dead or alive. After all, you were his before the fucker stole you,” The voice echoed around us, drawing closer.

The hold on his gun tightened, his head tilted to the side, listening for a second. I could hear the heavy footfalls of my chasers, they were drawing close. Too close.

Just as the man who had hit me crawled into my vision, Lorenzo released a bullet. A draft hit my face, the ring sounding in my ears. The man slumped to the floor with a solid thunk.

Suddenly, the sound of three close gunshots cut through the air again. They rang in my ears and vibrated in my bones against the pain claiming dominance within me.

After a few pops, it went quiet. Lorenzo picked me up, and almost instinctively, I wrapped my arms around his shoulder. 

Horrified out of my ever-loving mind, I could have almost gagged at the sight of blood that ran down the street, if the pain in my body could have let me.

My arms around Lorenzo tightened, and I couldn’t explain the reason why my body was violently shaking against his. I wasn't sure if it was from the pain or the post-traumatic realization that I had almost died.

Fuck. I was as good as dead if he hadn't shown up.

I took in the six bodies that lay in the pool of their own blood as Lorenzo passed by. Two vehicles were abandoned at the far ends of the streets, making me believe my chasers must have had more backup.

“Jesus Christ,” A familiar voice sounded from behind as Lorenzo carried me over to the black SUV parked close by. “This fuckers were either too brave or stupid to come to the side of town,”

I recognized the voice just as his face crept into my vision. Savio Russo. And behind him was Dimitri Castello, he was on a call, speaking in definitely not English. There was another guy who was dragging one of the men who had chased me into the truck of another SUV. I wasn't sure if the man was dead or alive.

“Fuck! They shot her?” Savio's voice followed us and Lorenzo dropped me into the back seat of the SUV.

I winced from the instant lack of warmth from Lorenzo's body, somehow it managed to make the pain bearable.

“They almost fucking had her. We were lucky to arrive just in time,” There was a noticeable tension in Lorenzo's voice. He went around the car and joined me in the back seat. “Call Doc, I'm getting her out of here,”

“We’ll follow soon once the bodies are dealt with,” Savio shut the door, his eyes meeting me briefly through the glass. There was none of his signature shark grin smile, only rage coming off him in waves, almost tainting the air I breathed. “He'll fucking pay for this,” Another promise of revenge. Of retaliation.

My brows drew together in confusion, I wanted to ask who he was talking about.

Was it Viktor? Who the hell was the man and why was he after my life? But the pain burning through me pressed my lips shut.

Again, I felt Lorenzo's arms around me. He picked me up, resting me on his lap. I didn't fight him, instead, I buried my head into the crook of his neck, my body vibrating against his as the car kicked to life and zoomed off. 

I was carried into the mansion as soon as we reached. I didn't look towards Stefano or the other two men standing inside the mansion.

“Fuck. Is she okay?” Dario tailed behind us as Lorenzo kept walking into his wing. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Let me know when Savio and Dimitri get here,” He shut the door to his closed room and carried me straight to his bathroom, dropping me on the counter.

He reached for the cabinet behind me and took out a first aid kit and began searching through it.

I stared at my image in the mirror. I didn't look so hot now. Beads of sweat covered my forehead. Splattered blood on my face, some blended quite well with my red hair. But it wasn't mine. It belonged to the asshole Lorenzo had killed. For the sake of my sanity and conscience, I wished I felt an ounce of guilt or sympathy for the dead man, but I didn't.

I wasn't sure how it made me feel, but I didn't care. My shoulder was covered in blood as well and more was gushing out from the wound, soaking my shirt and dripping on my skin to my lemon-green pants.

“I think I might need some blood transfusion,” The words slipped from my lips, as I bit my bottom lip fighting the pain that rocked through me.

“Close. But not today, Cuore mio,” Lorenzo muttered, not meeting my gaze. This was the first time he had spoken to me since he saved me. “You should thank your lucky stars, the bullet only brushed through,”

“Fuck. With the excruciating pain, I feel, it might as well still be in there,” My fingers curled into his shirt, digging into his arm as he used scissors to cut through my shirt, ripping it off until I was only in my blood-stained white lacy bra.