CHAPTER 5

SELENA'S POV

The first gunshot rang out exactly when my mouth was already poised to whisper “I do” to the man who had spent the last twelve months turning my life into a masterpiece of ordinary miracles.

For a single, disorienting second the world held its breath. The violinist’s bow hung in the air, the candles flickered, and Enzo’s smile... bright, mischievous, the very thing that had made me think our future could be written in the same ink as the vows we were about to exchange... vanished, replaced by a hollow stare.

I remember that moment clearer than any of the screaming that followed, clearer than the patch of red that stained the marble floor, clearer than the way the stained‑glass windows behind the altar exploded into shards of colored shards.

I remember the exact instant the warmth left Enzo’s eyes.

“Down!” He shouted, voice cracking with a fear I had never heard him make. It was not the low, affectionate murmur he had whispered against my cheek while adjusting my veil this morning.

It was a command stripped of all romance, raw and animal. He thrust me toward the side aisle, his hand gripping mine with a strength that hurt.

The second shot ripped the altar’s stone, flinging dust like confetti. Gunmen in black-and‑gold uniforms slid into the church, masks concealing half their faces, boots thudding on tiles.

The scent of gunpowder, metallic and sharp, soaked the air and seemed to smother the incense that had just begun to rise.

A bridesmaid next to me collapsed, her scream swallowed by a bullet that splintered the pew behind her. Blood spread across my lace, a stark, scarlet river that ran over the pearls of my necklace.

My mind tried to reject what was happening... this could not be my wedding day. It could not be happening to us.

Enzo’s grip tightened. “Selena, run!” He pushed me forward, his other hand now a frantic command.

The corridor ahead was a file of bodies pushing, stumbling, falling.

Glass shattered behind us. “Enzo—” I began, but he cut the word short.

“Don’t stop moving.” His fingers dug into the skin of my wrist, the nails grazing the pale flesh. I could feel his pulse, frantic and rapid, a metronome keeping time with the gunfire.

Only a few steps away from the back exit, a bullet slammed into his shoulder. He staggered, a spray of crimson blooming across his crisp white tuxedo. I heard the wet pop of blood hitting the marble and felt my stomach lurch. My breath caught.. tears sprang to my eyes, hot and unbidden.

”No, no, no, you're hurt Enzo”. I cried.

He tried to keep his footing, gritting his teeth.

“No! no, no, no…” He muttered, his jaw clenched around something I could not hear. Another blast ripped the air. The second shot struck his chest, and he fell to one knee, the world tilting under our feet.

“Enzo!” I sobbed, dropping to the floor beside him, my fingers slick with his blood. It wasn’t just the wound that drenched my hands... it was the weight of his body, the lean of his shoulders, the way his breath came in ragged, shallow bursts. His hand clasped my wrist like a vice.

“Listen to me,” he hissed, his voice a raw edge of desperation. “You need to run.”

“I’m not leaving you!” I cried, the words choking against the gunfire that roared nearer.

“Selena!” He made me look at him, his eyes... those brown, fierce eyes that had seen me through a thousand ordinary mornings... now darting with an electric fury. “If they find you with me, they’ll kill you too.”

Bullets sprayed, Enzo shoved me toward a banquet table... white linen draped over the scarred wood like a funeral shroud. “Hide.” He whispered, urgency tearing through his composure.

I stared, heart shattering. “Enzo...”

“Hide, Selena!” He barked, his tone now not just a command but a farewell.

He pressed his forehead to mine, his breath hot, his lips inches from mine. “I love you.”

The words landed on my cheek like a kiss of ash. Then, with the last of his strength, he shoved me beneath the table, the fabric swallowing me whole.

My head was pressed against the cold, polished base of the table as body heat rose in hot wisps. The gunfire above became a percussive drumbeat, each crack echoing through the floorboards like distant thunder.

I covered my mouth with both hands, stifling a scream that threatened to betray my hiding place.

Another round of gunshots erupted. I heard Enzo shouting, heard the crack of his own gun, the metallic impact of bodies hitting the floor.

A scream followed by a chilling choke. My breath hitched... through the thin slit my head poked out, I saw Enzo stagger backward, blood spilling from his mouth, a dark river running down his chin.

“No…” I mouthed, my throat a raw wound, shaking my fingers until they bled, just to keep the sound out of the air.

He turned his gaze toward where I was, eyes wide, desperate, pleading. In them I saw something that was not fear but an apology... an apology for pulling me into this hell, for failing to protect the woman he loved.

A second bullet pierced his abdomen, bright against his black tuxedo. He clutched at his stomach, the world around him a smear of crimson and pain. Then another. Then another. His body crumpled onto the marble, still and stiller than the stone beneath it.

I bit my own hand hard enough to bleed. The taste of copper in my mouth was less terrifying than the sound of boots closing in on his lifeless form. Men in black‑and‑gold uniforms gathered around him, their silhouettes like predators examining roadkill. One laughed, a cruel, hollow sound.

“Thought the famous Ravelli would last longer,” he sneered, kicking Enzo’s ribs with a cruelty that made my stomach churn.

“Boss wants confirmation,” another muttered, as if they were checking a list of names. A third crouched, grabbed Enzo’s jaw, and said with a grin, “He’s dead.”

They lifted him like a sack of grain, dragging his body toward the exit. Blood smeared across the polished floor, each footstep heavy. My vision blurred, sweat slick on my skin, heart hammering against my ribs.

One of the men stopped directly in front of the table, his mask hiding his features but his eyes... a cold, calculating glint, rising to meet mine.

He lowered his hand, adjusting a silver necklace that clinked against his chest. The emblem on the pendant caught the fractured light: a snake and a dragon coiled around a sword and shield.

I didn’t know why that symbol terrified me more than the carnage, but something inside me clicked. Execution... a message, this was not random terror... it was a meticulously planned purge.

The men vanished as quickly as they had appeared, disappearing into the broken arches, their laughter echoing down the nave. An oppressive silence settled, the kind that follows a funeral, heavy and suffocating. Blood seeped across the marble toward me, a slow tide of inevitability.

When the gunfire ceased, I lay still, breath shallow, my mind a whirl of disbelief and numbness. Time stretched, each second an eternity.

Finally, my trembling fingers found the edge of the tablecloth. I crawled out, the hem of my wedding dress dragging through puddles of blood, soaking the silk and lace.

The church... once a sanctuary of vows and holy light, now resembled a battlefield. Bodies lay draped in formal wear, flowers charred, pews shattered like broken promises. The air, thick with smoke and gunpowder, burned my lungs. I forced my legs to move, each step a painful reminder that the man who had promised forever was gone.

“Enzo…” I whispered, my voice barely a breath. The words dissolved in the stale air, swallowed by the darkness.

A sudden weight clamped over my mouth. A rough, calloused hand forced my mouth shut, a guttural “hmppp” choking the last of my cries.

I tried to scream, to claw free, but the grip was iron.

A man, tall, broad-shouldered, his mask still hiding his face... dragged me towards the back of the church.