Chapter 9: The Shattered Mind

The cold barrel of the gun pressed hard against my skull, right at the base of my neck. The metal was freezing, but it was nothing compared to the ice that flooded my veins.

My hands were still pressed against the bulletproof glass, my tears leaving streaks on the tinted window. I had just watched Enzo collapse to his knees on the gravel. I had just watched him bleed out. And now, I was trapped in a moving car with the man who wanted us both dead.

“Don’t scream,” Dante whispered from the backseat, his voice a sickening caress in the dark. “Or I’ll paint this pretty glass with your brains.”

My heart hammered so violently I thought it might break my ribs. I slowly lowered my hands, forcing myself to take a shallow, steady breath. I turned my head just enough to see him in the rearview mirror. His dark eyes were feral, a chilling smile twisting his lips.

“Where are we going?” I asked. I was shocked by how steady my voice sounded.

“To finish what we started,” Dante said, pressing the gun harder. “Victoria wants a word with you before we put you in the ground.”

I looked at the driver’s seat. Marcus was gripping the steering wheel, his knuckles stark white. His jaw was clenched so tight I could see the muscle jumping in his cheek. He caught my eye in the mirror. A silent, desperate apology. He had failed to protect me, and now he was forced to drive at gunpoint.

“If you kill me,” I said, my mind racing, trying to buy time, “Enzo will hunt you down. He won’t just kill you, Dante. He’ll erase your entire bloodline.”

Dante laughed. It was a cold, hollow sound. “Enzo is bleeding out on his driveway. By the time he gets up, I’ll be the new Godfather.”

“You’re a fool,” I spat, the anger finally cutting through the terror. “Victoria is using you. She doesn’t care about your vengeance. She just wants the Vitale empire.”

“Shut up!” Dante snarled, hitting the back of my seat.

I flinched, but I didn't stop. I turned fully to face him, my eyes blazing. “You killed those guards in the basement. You shot the man who trusts you like a brother. You’re a coward, Dante. Hiding behind Victoria’s skirt.”

Dante’s face twisted with rage. He lunged forward, grabbing a fistful of my hair and yanking my head back. The gun was now pressed directly under my chin.

“I said, shut your mouth,” he hissed, spittle flying from his lips.

Suddenly, Marcus slammed on the brakes.

The SUV screeched, the tires locking up. The momentum threw Dante off balance, his grip on my hair loosening as he was tossed forward. The gun went off, the deafening blast shattering the back window, showering us in glass.

I didn't hesitate. I drove my elbow straight back, catching Dante in the throat. He choked, gasping for air, and the gun slipped from his grasp, tumbling onto the floorboards.

“Marcus, go!” I screamed, diving for the weapon.

Marcus didn't need to be told. He slammed his foot on the accelerator. The SUV roared, swerving violently as he spun the wheel.

I wrapped my fingers around the cold steel of the gun, spinning around to aim it at Dante. He was slumped against the door, gasping for breath, his eyes wide with shock.

“Drive to the estate!” I yelled at Marcus, my hands shaking as I held the gun steady. “We have to get back to Enzo!”

“Miss Vance, look out!” Marcus yelled.

I looked up. Through the shattered back window, a black town car was barreling toward us. Victoria’s car.

The impact was violent.

Metal screamed against metal as the town car rammed into our side. The SUV spun, flipping onto its side. My world became a blur of shattered glass, tearing metal, and blinding pain. The gun flew out of my hand. I hit the roof of the car, my vision exploding in a shower of white sparks.

Everything went silent.

When I opened my eyes, I was hanging upside down, the seatbelt cutting into my chest. Smoke was rising from the engine. Dante was unconscious, crumpled in a heap against the roof of the car.

“Marcus…” I groaned, my voice barely a whisper.

No answer.

I unbuckled my seatbelt, crashing down onto the roof of the SUV. I cried out, clutching my side, as a sharp, searing pain ripped through me. I crawled through the shattered window, dragging myself out onto the asphalt.

The cold wind hit my face, bringing with it the smell of gasoline and blood. I looked up, my vision blurry.

Victoria was standing a few feet away, dressed in a pristine white coat, a smoking gun in her hand. Her blonde hair was perfect, not a strand out of place.

“You are remarkably resilient, Sarah,” Victoria said, her voice cold and smooth. “I’ll give you that.”

I tried to push myself up, my arms trembling, but I collapsed. I was too weak, too broken.

Victoria stepped closer, pointing the gun directly at my head.

“Goodbye, Mrs. Vitale,” she whispered.

I closed my eyes, waiting for the bullet.

But the bullet never came.

Instead, I heard the roar of an engine. A deafening, primal roar. I opened my eyes just as a black motorcycle tore through the smoke, swerving directly toward Victoria.

She screamed, diving out of the way. The motorcycle skidded to a halt, the rider kicking the stand down.

The rider ripped off his helmet.

It was Enzo.

He was deathly pale, his side heavily bandaged, blood seeping through his shirt. His eyes were wild, frantic, burning with a terrifying, pure rage. He looked like a man who had crawled out of the grave.

“Enzo…” I breathed, the tears falling again.

He didn't look at Victoria. He looked only at me. He stumbled off the bike, falling to his knees beside me. He pulled me into his arms, crushing me against his chest. The moment his skin touched mine, the violent shaking in his body stopped. He buried his face in my hair, his entire body shuddering with a relief so profound it was almost painful.

“I thought I lost you,” he choked out, his voice cracked and raw.

“I’m here,” I whispered, clinging to him.

“I told you,” he breathed, pulling back to cup my face, his thumbs wiping away my tears. “I told you I would never let anyone take you from me.”

He turned his head, his eyes locking onto Victoria, who was scrambling to her feet. The warmth in his gaze vanished, replaced by an absolute, chilling darkness.

“You,” he said, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper.

Victoria froze.

Enzo raised the gun he had pulled from his waistband, aiming it directly at her heart.

But before he could pull the trigger, Victoria smiled.

“You’re too late, Enzo,” Victoria whispered.

She raised her hand. In it was a small remote.

“I wouldn't pull that trigger,” Victoria said, her voice full of venom. “Because if you do, the bomb I planted in your mother’s gravesite will detonate. And your sweet little Isabella is there right now, visiting the grave.”