Chapter 56 Blood on the sand
Gavin’s POV
The silence after the gunshots was deafening.
Diana’s breathing was ragged against my chest, her whole body trembling. I kept my hand on the back of her head, keeping her down, my eyes scanning the darkness.
Then I heard the sound of struggling and someone grunting. Followed by the sound of someone hitting the ground hard.
“Boss!” One of my men’s voices cut through the darkness. “I’ve got him! Gavin, come here!”
I've always been grateful to my men. But I was especially grateful today. Not just for myself but for Diana especially.
I looked down at Diana. Her eyes were wide with terror, mascara streaking down her cheeks.
“Stay behind me,” I said quietly. “Don’t move unless I tell you to.”
She nodded frantically.
I stood, pulling her up with me, keeping her body shielded behind mine. My hand found hers, gripping tight as we moved toward the commotion.
Two of my security team had someone pinned face-down in the sand near the dunes. One of them…Rico…had his knee pressed into the shooter’s back,with the gun kicked several feet away from him.
The man was struggling, cursing in rapid Italian.
I approached slowly, Diana’s hand clutching mine so tight it hurt.
The man was middle-aged, dark hair, expensive clothes now covered in sand. Italian, definitely. I could tell from his features, his accent.
“Who are you?” I asked in a cold voice.
He turned his head just enough to spit in the sand. “Vaffanculo.( go fuck yourself)”
Rico pressed harder into his back. The man grunted in pain but didn’t cry out.
“I’ll ask again,” I continued, my tone darker now. “Who sent you? I’m not a very patient man”
The man laughed…His tone was harsh, and bitter. “You think I’m afraid of you? I’m not saying anything. You’d rather kill me here? Go ahead. I’m already a dead man.”
I frowned, studying him. This wasn’t some hired thug. This was someone with training. Someone who knew what happened to people who talked.
I glanced at Rico. “Search him.”
Rico moved to pat down the man, checking pockets, looking for a way to at least identify him.
Suddenly the man’s hand moved very fast like a flash of silver. There was a small pocket knife hidden in his sleeve.
He twisted, the blade driving straight into Rico’s foot.
Rico screamed, stumbling backward.The shooter scrambled for the gun.
“Down!” I shoved Diana hard to the side, away from the line of fire.
The man’s hand closed around the weapon. He rolled, bringing it up…
Not at me.
At Diana.
She’d peeked out from behind me, her face visible in the moonlight.The gun barrel swung toward her.
My body moved on instinct, stepping between them.
But the man’s face changed.
His eyes locked on Diana. His mouth opened like he was trying to say something…something urgent, something important.
Then his expression twisted. Into one of confusion and pain.
Blood bubbled up from his lips, dark and thick.The gun wavered in his hand.
He coughed, and more blood came…streaming down his chin, pooling in his mouth.
His eyes were still on Diana. Still trying to speak. His lips formed words that wouldn’t come, his throat working uselessly.
The gun dropped from his fingers.
He fell backward onto the sand, his body convulsing. Once. Twice.Then he went still.
The only sound was the waves crashing against the shore and Diana’s sharp, panicked breathing behind me.
Nobody moved.
The man lay there, eyes open and glassy, staring at nothing. Blood pooled around his head, dark against the pale sand. His mouth hung open, lips stained red.
Dead.
“What the fuck,” Rico breathed, limping forward despite the knife still embedded in his foot.
I approached the body cautiously, crouched down, checked for a pulse even though I already knew.
Nothing.
“Cyanide,” I said quietly, recognizing the signs. The foam at his lips. The violent convulsions. “He bit down on a capsule the moment he knew he wouldn’t escape.”
He was a professional hit man. Trained to die rather than be captured.
The beach felt colder suddenly. Darker. I have never been a fan of violence but it seems my hands were getting forced.
“Search him,” I ordered. “Everything. I want to know who this fucker was.”
Rico and the other guard moved quickly, going through the dead man’s pockets. Wallet…no ID. Phone…burner, probably untraceable. Keys.
Then Rico stopped.
“Boss.” His voice was tight. “You need to see this.”
I moved closer as Rico pulled back the man’s collar, revealing his neck.
There, just below his hairline, was a tattoo. It was small but unmistakable.
A symbol I’d hoped never to see again.Three interlocking circles forming a triangle with a crown at the center.
“Fuck.” The word came out low, venomous.
“Sir?” Rico was watching me, waiting for orders, his face pale.
I stood, my jaw clenched so tight it ached.
The Five Families.They have finally gotten involved in the case.which means my family was no longer safe. Malissa…
“Take care of it,” I said, my voice flat.
“What about…”
“Everything.” I turned away from the corpse, from that symbol burned into his flesh.
“Yes, sir.”
I walked back to Diana. She stood exactly where I’d left her, frozen, staring at the dead man with wide, uncomprehending eyes.
“Diana.” I took her arm. “We’re leaving. Now.”She didn’t respond. Didn’t move.
I had to physically turn her away from the scene, guide her back across the sand toward the car.
Behind us, my men were already working…fast, efficient, erasing every trace of what had happened here.
But I couldn’t erase that symbol.I Couldn’t erase what it meant.
They’d sent a message tonight.And the message was clear.
No one was safe.Not anymore. I guided her toward the car,with my arm firm around her shoulders. Halfway there, her legs gave out. She turned into me, clutching my shirt, breaking apart with a sob that shook her whole body. I held her tightly, letting her cry into my chest, with the night closing in around us.