No One Touch What's Mine

**Rossi**

The first bullet whistled past my ear as I stepped back into the chaos of the ballroom,I didn’t flinch,bullets were nothing new,death was an old friend.

What *did* piss me off was that someone had dared to attack while my future wife,my untouched little virgin,was standing on that terrace with her lips still swollen from my kiss and her undoubtedly dripping for me.

That was unacceptable.I pulled the second gun from the holster at my lower back, both weapons already warm in my palms,the lights had been shot out; the grand chandeliers lay shattered on the marble floor, crystals crunching under my shoes like brittle bones.

Screams echoed, my men were already moving, returning fire with disciplined precision,Marco Romano’s soldiers were less organized,panicked, sloppy,pathetic.

I spotted the first intruder near the east entrance: masked, wearing tactical gear, carrying an AR-15,amateur,he was spraying bullets wildly, trying to hit anything that moved.

I raised my right hand and put two rounds through his throat before he even registered my presence,blood sprayed across a nearby tablecloth as he dropped, gurgling.

No mercy,no hesitation.Another attacker tried to flank me from behind the bar,I pivoted, grabbed a shattered champagne bottle by the neck, and drove the jagged edge straight into his eye socket with brutal force,he screamed once before I twisted the glass and fired a bullet into his open mouth to silence him permanently.

Warm blood splattered across my white dress shirt. I didn’t care. It felt right.

“Rossi!” One of my capos shouted. “Three more on the balcony stairs, they’re heading for the terrace!”My blood turned to ice.

Fuck those bastards the terrace,where I had left Kiara.Where my sweet, trembling virgin was hiding like a frightened little lamb.

No one touches what’s mine.I moved like death itself, cutting through the crowd. A man lunged at me with a knife. I caught his wrist, snapped it with a sharp twist, then rammed my knee into his face hard enough to cave in his skull. He collapsed in a heap. I stepped over his body without breaking stride.

The three attackers on the stairs never saw me coming,the first one turned too late. I pressed the barrel of my gun to the back of his head and pulled the trigger. His face exploded outward in a mist of red as his body tumbled down the steps.

The second raised his weapon. I was faster. Two shots to the chest, one to the forehead. He jerked like a puppet with cut strings before slamming into the wall,the third tried to run.

I caught him by the back of his jacket, slammed him face-first into the marble railing, and ground his cheek against the stone until I heard bone crack.

“Who sent you?” I growled, voice low and lethal.

He spat blood. “Fuck you, Del Brenta....”

I drove the butt of my gun into his temple once, twice, then shoved the barrel between his teeth.

“Wrong answer.”I pulled the trigger,the back of his head painted the wall behind him.

Silence fell over that section of the ballroom, broken only by the distant screams and the soft drip of blood from the railing.

I wiped my hands on the dead man’s jacket and straightened my blood-splattered suit,my heart rate hadn’t even risen,but the rage still burned hot in my chest.

Someone had come for my Kiara tonight. Someone wanted to take her from me before I could even claim her properly,before I could spread those pale thighs and sink into her tight, virgin heat while she cried out my name in pain and pleasure.

I found her exactly where I’d left her, crouched behind the stone balustrade, crimson dress pooled around her like spilled blood, eyes wide with terror,when she saw me, a shaky breath escaped her lips.

“Rossi…”

The way she said my name,soft, trembling, half fear and half relief,sent a dark thrill straight to my tool.I holstered my guns and pulled her up into my arms, crushing her against my chest,she was so small, so fragile compared to the violence I’d just unleashed,her body trembled violently as she felt the warm blood soaking through my shirt onto her bare skin.

“You’re safe,” I murmured against her hair, voice still rough with the kill. My hand slid down her back, possessive and greedy, cupping her ass through the thin fabric of her dress. “No one will ever touch you but me,understand?”

She nodded against my chest, but I felt her pulse racing wildly.

I tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet my eyes,her lips were parted, breathing fast,the fear in her gaze mixed with something darker,something that made my blood run hotter than the slaughter I’d just committed.

“Did you hear the shots?” I asked, thumb brushing her lower lip. “Did you hear me end them?”

She swallowed hard. “Yes.”

“Good.” I leaned down, capturing her mouth in a brutal kiss, tasting the copper of blood on my tongue as it mixed with her sweetness. She whimpered into my mouth, small hands fisting my ruined shirt. When I pulled back, her lips were stained red.

“I killed for you tonight, Kiara,” I whispered against her ear, voice dark and filthy. “Three men dead because they dared come near what belongs to me. And when I finally get you alone on our wedding night, I’m going to fuck you just as mercilessly. I’ll tear through that cunt until you’re bleeding and begging, then fill you with my cum until it drips down your thighs.”

Her breath hitched, a soft, involuntary moan escaping before she could stop it,I smiled against her neck, teeth grazing her skin.