The Failed Assassination

The attack began completely by surprise, and everyone was swept into the chaos. Screams and gunshots rang out everywhere.

I subconsciously took a half-step back and ducked behind a tree in the back garden.

Enzo Tomasi’s personal soldati formed a human wall around him.

As for myself, I was only three steps away from him.

Tonight was the night of the annual charity gala our family threw. As the wife of Luis Marconi, the family’s head of security, I was also invited.

Two hours before, I was still holding a flute of champagne and talking with the wives of some members of parliament about next spring’s charity auction.

No one had noticed that Luis was nowhere to be seen.

No one knew that he had been driving in a mad rush to an apartment on the east side of the city to soothe the ruffled feathers of his upset lover, Bianca Linetti.

“Protect Don Tomasi! Seal all the exits!” someone shouted. The gunshots were coming in quick succession, almost like fireworks.

I ducked my head and looked at the little, button-like metal thing in my hand. It was an emergency communication device, connected straight to Luis’ personal channel.

He had thrown the thing at me impatiently before we left home tonight. He said, “Don’t bother me unless something dire happens and Don Tomasi’s on the brink of death.”

In the previous timeline, I had pressed the button.

Luis had come with his men, descending like a guardian angel to save Enzo from the midst of danger. Enzo had been immensely grateful and had promoted him on the spot, bringing him right into the inner circle. He had even gifted Luis a luxury seaside mansion.

Luis was so pleased, but I had become the person at fault for causing the death of his supposed true love.

Bianca had apparently followed Luis in secret and been killed in the messy firefight.

Luis assumed that I had used the communication device at that exact time so as to draw Bianca into danger.

That night, Luis dragged me into an abandoned factory. He stood in the doorway and regarded my bloodied body with a cold eye.

Then, he told his brawlers, “Clean this up.”

From beginning to end, he never even gave me or our child a second glance.

“Mrs. Marconi, get back to the car!” a bodyguard roared at me.

I abruptly came back to myself and saw that Enzo had been forced into a corner, with two soldati lying on the ground. I had no clue if they were dead or alive.

The gunmen were reloading. Within ten seconds, they would start firing again.

I tossed the communication device into the fountain behind me and ran out.

“Duck!”

I rushed before Enzo and shielded him with my body. When the bullet punctured my back, I heard myself let out a muffled, pained groan. It hurt a million times worse than I had ever imagined. Yet, it was not as painful as being bitten and torn at by wild dogs in the previous timeline.

Enzo’s voice sounded above me. His tone was colored with shocked disbelief. “Y-You’re—”

“Don’t move.” I gritted my teeth and forced myself to ignore the pain. “You can’t die.”

I could feel something within me tear apart, and warm liquid gushed down my thighs.

I knew exactly what that was.

In the previous timeline, just as I was about to die, I heard the cry of an infant. This time, I did not have the chance to hear even that.

After some time, the shooting stopped.

The leader of Enzo’s personal soldati had arrived with reinforcements.

The night was filled with the noise of footsteps, shouts, and the static of walkie-talkies.

Someone tried to drag me off from Enzo, but I clutched his suit sleeve tightly, refusing to let go.

“I’m…” My voice was distant. “I’m Luis Marconi’s wife.”

Someone helped Enzo up. His face was covered with my blood.

He looked at me with a different sort of gaze. It was not pity, but respect.

“Find Luis Marconi!” he told the person beside him. “Find him right now!”