Chapter 193 Rafael
“The night air nips at my coat with an unforgiving edge,” I feel its bite and even its sting, though I don’t feel it much. All I feel is the beat of my anger pulsating within me, the blaze that burns within my blood and simply won’t let me stop, won’t let me think about anything except getting to my woman
Rocco is at my side, quiet, deadly, his eyes icy and calculating. We move , the sound of snow crunching beneath our boots, the lights of the Valenti compound flickering enough to light a patch of snow-covered ground. This is it. Those who ever thought they could lay a hand on my wife, my family, my blood will course through their veins when we’re done.
The first guard goes around the corner, oblivious. Rocco doesn't even think about it. A snap of his wrist, a knife to the throat. The body falls with a silent word. I don't wait for Rocco to open his mouth, I act, slicing a blade through a man’s chest. He staggers, coughs, and dies in a heap of snow. The iron scent invigorates me, and for a moment, I’m a kid again, training with a dagger.
We proceed into the compound. The air is thick with the haze of smoke and the pungent tang of fear. Men run at the sight of us, but too late. Rocco and I are the tempest. Gunfire erupts, punches flash, and blades glint in the shadows. This is an art, each motion an instinct, each strike made with purpose. Rocco and I are a team, made of blood and combat.
A man swings a bat at me, I spin and kick him in the knees, shoving my fist into his face. He falls. Rocco is right beside me, slicing through another attacker with merciless skill. I lock eyes with him; no need for explanations. The anger is collective. The objective is collective.
Gunfire rings out from the back. I roll, pick up an abandoned rifle, and fire back. Sparks ignite the darkness as men drop one by one. Rocco is close, hacking through anyone who thinks to get near, his motion smooth, lethal, almost beautiful. Blood spatters, screams ring out in the room, and I know I’ve never felt this alive in years.
We forge on to the inside room. The doors are barricaded, but we aren’t going to be deterred. Shoulder first, I bash into it, with Rocco right behind me, taking down the guys trying to keep it shut. There are spurts of gunfire all around, bullets grazing arms and shoulders. There’s pain, but it’s secondary. My concern is fixed on one thing alone: her.
Then I see him.
Antonio lies prone near the far door, his blood seeping into the concrete floor beneath him. His eyes are open, his gaze vacant. A gunshot wound spreads black across his chest.
For a beat, raw fury courses through my veins.
I wanted him to be alive. I wanted him to look me in the eye when I told him the cost of his greed. I wanted him to live long enough to clean up the mess he made.
Then the rage changes into something else.
Relief.
Cold, shameful relief.
Because he's dead, and I didn’t do it. And Rosalia wouldn’t have had to watch me kill her father in a fury I might not have been able to stop.
I close my eyes quickly, pushing this emotion away. There is no time for this.
Then I see her. Rosalia. She is controlled, fear etched across her face. I am struck by relief. She is alive. Tears run down her cheeks. She is crying.
“Rafael!” she cries, trembling in
“I’ve got you!” I roar back. “Hold on!”
Rocco and I fall upon the remaining men in a fury. One reaches for Rosalia, I turn, throw a punch to his perfect nose, and he crumples to the ground. Another charges Rocco, he parries the attacker with his knife, and the fight is finished before the man realizes what he was hit with.
I pick her up in my arms. She’s shaking, holding on to me, and that fierce protectiveness ignites in me like never before. “We’re getting out of here,” I growl, surveying the room. “No one else lays a hand on you.”
Rocco nods, his eyes scanning the area for possible threats. The bullets and knives are still flowing, but our guys have already begun mopping up. Each and every attacker who thought he could lay hands on my family is dropping like flies.
We fight our way towards the exit, every step an ordeal, every turn a possible trap. She is clutched tightly in my hold, shaking with her sobs. I whisper, my face set, gun up, muscles primed. "Almost there."
Finally, we burst out into the night. Snow flurries mingle with the smoke and blood, resulting in a fog that borders on the surreal. I look back. The complex is pockmarked with corpses, the corpses of the Valenti men who stupidly crossed the De Lucas.
“Safe,” Rocco grunts beside me, though his voice is no less tense than my own.
I don’t relax yet. She’s still in my arms, and the adrenaline hasn’t worn off yet. But for the first time tonight, I let myself grin. The men are gone. The danger has been neutralized. And she’s alive.
I press her close, feeling the beat of her heart against my chest.
Snow crunches beneath my boots as I emerge from the car. Rosalia is secure inside, her body a lifeline to my sanity, while my men are around us, silent and vigilant. The representative of Valenti is waiting by the edge of the clearing, a self-satisfied grin spreading his flushed face, dressed in black as if he owns the night.
He sees me coming and stands up straight, realizing this is a negotiation he is in charge of. “Rafael De Luca,” he says with a silky smooth voice. “Your wife is unharmed, yes. However, debts must still be paid off.”
I stop a few steps away, and the wind cuts between us. My hands are empty, but my fury is hot enough to shake them. “Debts?” I repeat, my voice calm and deadly. “You’re lucky I didn’t kill you when I found you both alive. Debts? No. You’re not going to see one single cent. Do you hear me? Not one single cent.”
He laughs, a sharp and forced sound. “She’s alive because I let it happen. You understand how the world works, Rafael. Nothing is free.”
"Wrong," I growl. “I will not negotiate. You will not drag her into this situation again. If I ever find you involving her in any of your business again, any of it. I will make damned sure this is your last night on earth."
He swallows hard, seeing steel in my eyes. He nods his head slowly. “Good. Good. Your wife. untouched. No involvement. You have our word.”
I don’t relax. Not yet. My brothers are behind me, their hands fluttering near their guns and ready for anything. “Good,” I say. “Then this is how it’s going to go. You take in whatever is left of my father-in-law’s holdings. You sell it if you have to. Doesn’t have anything to do with my wife. Anything.”
The man shifts, discomfort creeping over him, but he nods. "Understood. And. we apologize, Rafael De Luca. Really. Now that her father is gone, your wife will have access to some other properties. It’s in her best interest that she sells them as she wish and our debt is paid in full."
I take a step closer, too near for comfort, and the words burst from my lips. “Deal.Apology accepted… but that is far too small for the mess you have made.”
My hand automatically goes to the gun that rests against my side. Before he can move, I raise it and fire, striking him right in the shoulder. He cries out and falls, his hands going around his injured shoulder. “You're welcome. You caused my wife unnecessary problems and trauma. Now we're even.”
The other men lose footing behind him, realizing that the balance of power has shifted. The representative for Valenti scowls, his face painted with agony and shock. I back off, holstering my gun and showing them that the point is clear: no one touches my family, and no one does any negotiating through them.
I look at Rosalia, still in the car, her fingers dug into the edge of her seat, her eyes locked on mine.
A small smile plays on her lips, and she radiates a kind of relief, though she hasn't yet comprehended what just took place. "It is done," I whisper to her. "All of it. You are safe."
My guys are holding off the rest of the Valenti men as we fall back.
It starts to snow harder now, casting a blanket of dust over the mayhem in its wake. But the sense of all the dangers being lifted off my shoulders is a good weight to carry.
“I’m sorry they got to you baby.Are you good? Is the baby okay?”
I asked and just then she screams.