Chapter 30 Blood and Betrayal

Chapter 30 Blood and Betrayal

Lorenzo's POV

The streets of Marrakech were silent at three in the morning. Just us, shadows, and the distant call of a dog somewhere in the darkness.

We moved through the old city like ghosts. Six men trained in violence, and one woman who'd learned to kill out of necessity.

Marcella stayed close to Gustavo, just like I'd ordered. But even in the darkness, I could feel her eyes on me. Watching. Waiting.

The villa appeared ahead. High walls, ornate gate, soft lights glowing from upper windows. It looked peaceful. Innocent.

It wasn't.

I held up a hand, stopping the group. Vito moved forward with Gustavo and Dante, heading toward the north entrance. They'd create the distraction in exactly ten minutes.

That left me with Luca and Marcella for the south approach.

"Remember the plan," I said quietly. "Vito draws the guards away. We go in fast and quietly. Third floor. Separate rooms. Cesare first, then Giovanni."

"And if they're together?" Luca asked.

"Then we adjust." I looked at Marcella. "You stay with me. No matter what happens, you don't leave my side until I tell you it's safe."

She nodded, her face pale but determined.

We moved along the south wall, using the shadows for cover. The camera Vito had identified was exactly where he'd said, sweeping in a predictable pattern.

I counted the seconds. When the camera turned away, we scaled the wall.

Inside, the villa's garden was lush. Trees, fountains, the smell of jasmine heavy in the air. Beautiful and wrong, like lipstick on a corpse.

The south entrance was locked but old. I had it open in thirty seconds.

Then we were inside.

The interior was dark, quiet. Expensive rugs muffled our footsteps. We moved through halls decorated with art and silk, wealth stolen from people like Marcella's family.

Upstairs, a floorboard creaked.

I froze, hand raised. Marcella and Luca stopped behind me.

Footsteps. Coming toward the stairs.

A guard appeared at the top, his weapon raised. He saw us and opened his mouth to shout.

Luca's silenced shot took him in the chest. He fell without a sound.

"Move," I ordered.

We took the stairs two at a time. The third floor was a long hallway with doors on either side.

From somewhere below, an explosion shook the building.

Vito's distraction.

Shouting erupted. Guards running, doors slamming.

"Now," I said.

We moved down the hall. The first door was locked. I kicked it open.

Empty.

The second door opened before I reached it.

Cesare stood there, holding a gun.

He was older than the photos I'd seen. Gray at the temples, lines around his eyes. But I recognized him. Saw my mother's features twisted into something cruel.

"Lorenzo." His smile was cold. "I've been expecting you."

He fired.

I dove left, pulling Marcella with me. The bullet hit the wall where we'd been standing.

Luca returned fire, but Cesare was already moving, disappearing into the room.

"Stay here," I told Marcella.

"Lorenzo, wait."

But I was already through the door.

\---

The room was large. Bedroom, sitting area, balcony. Cesare stood near the balcony doors, his gun trained on me.

"You look like her," he said. "Your mother. Same eyes. Same stubborn mouth."

"Don't talk about her."

"Why not? She was my sister. I loved her."

"You killed her."

"I freed her." His expression didn't change. "She was weak. Like your father. Couldn't handle the reality of our business. She wanted to expose everything, destroy the family name. I couldn't let that happen."

Rage, hot and blinding, surged through me. "So you pushed her down the stairs."

"It was quick. Painless. More mercy than she deserved."

I raised my gun. "And my father?"

"Died of a broken heart. Though I may have helped it along with a little something in his whiskey." Cesare shrugged. "He was useless after she died anyway."

"You took everything from me."

"I gave you purpose. Made you strong. Look at you now. A don in your own right. You should be thanking me."

"I'm going to kill you."

"Maybe. But first, you'll want to know about Giovanni. About why I chose the Vale family." His smile widened. "Would you like to know what your little bride's father was really doing? The secrets he kept?"

I hesitated. Behind me, I heard Marcella's sharp intake of breath. She'd followed me despite my order to stay back.

"Tell me," I said.

"Antonio Vale was my partner. Had been for years. Money laundering, weapons trafficking, all of it. He made millions off our business. Got rich on blood money." Cesare's eyes found Marcella. "Did you know that, child? That your father was just as dirty as the rest of us?"

"You're lying," Marcella said, but her voice shook.

"Am I? Ask your uncle. He'll tell you. Antonio wanted out, wanted to go legitimate, take his fortune, and pretend he'd earned it honestly. I couldn't allow that. He knew too much. Could have destroyed us all."

"So you killed my entire family." Marcella stepped forward, her gun raised. "My mother. My cousin. Innocent people."

"Collateral damage. The price of your father's betrayal." Cesare turned back to me. "And framing you? That was just a good strategy. Two problems solved with one fire."

"You made one mistake," I said.

"What's that?"

"You left witnesses. Salvatore talked before he died. Told us everything. The weapons. The frame job. All of it."

Something flickered in Cesare's eyes. Fear, maybe. Or respect.

"Salvatore always was weak."

"He was loyal. To you. He died for it."

"And you'll die for your mother." Cesare raised his gun. "Such poetry."

Everything happened at once.

Cesare fired at me. I dove right, returning fire. Marcella screamed and shot at Cesare, her bullet hitting his shoulder.

He stumbled back, blood spreading across his shirt. But he didn't drop his weapon.

"You little bitch," he snarled at Marcella.

He turned his gun toward her.

"No!" I roared.

I fired twice. Center mass. But in that same instant, Cesare pulled his trigger.

The sound was deafening in the small room.

Marcella's body jerked backward, her eyes going wide with shock.

"Marcella!" I screamed.

She fell, hitting the floor hard. Blood bloomed across her chest, dark and spreading fast.

I crossed to Cesare and put two more bullets in his head. He was dead before he hit the ground, but I didn't care. All I cared about was the woman bleeding out on the floor.

I dropped to my knees beside her, my hands pressing against the wound. Blood poured between my fingers, hot and unstoppable.

"No, no, no," I chanted. "Stay with me. Look at me, Marcella. Look at me."

Her eyes found mine, unfocused and scared. She tried to speak, but only a gurgling sound came out. Blood bubbled at her lips.

"Don't talk. Don't move. You're going to be fine." I ripped off my shirt and pressed it against the wound. "Vito! Get up here now!"

Footsteps thundered up the stairs. Vito burst into the room, took one look at Marcella, and his face went white.

"Cristo," he breathed.

"Call the doctor. Now. Tell him it's urgent."

"Boss, we're in Morocco. We can't just...."

"I don't care! Find someone. Anyone." I looked down at Marcella. Her skin was going pale, her breathing shallow. "Stay with me, amore. Please. Don't leave me."

Her hand lifted weakly, touching my face. Her fingers left bloody streaks on my cheek.

"Lorenzo," she whispered, so quiet I barely heard it.

"I'm here. I'm right here."

"Giovanni... he..."

I looked up and realized for the first time that Giovanni wasn't in the room. Wasn't anywhere.

"Where is he?" I demanded of Vito.

"I don't know. We haven't seen him."

The bastard had run. Left Cesare to die and run like the coward he was.

But I couldn't think about that now. All that mattered was Marcella.

"The doctor," I snapped at Vito.

"Already called. He's twenty minutes away."

Twenty minutes. She'd be dead in twenty minutes if I couldn't stop the bleeding.

I pressed harder on the wound, and she gasped in pain. Her eyes rolled back.

"No. Stay with me. Marcella, stay with me."

Luca appeared in the doorway. "We need to move. Police are coming."

"Then let them come. I'm not leaving her."

"Boss, if we're caught here...."

"I don't care!" I roared. "Get out if you want. But I'm staying with my wife."

Luca looked at Vito, who nodded. "We'll handle it. Buy you time."

They disappeared, and I was alone with Marcella, and Cesare's corpse.

Her breathing was getting weaker. The blood flow wasn't stopping, no matter how hard I pressed.

"Please," I whispered. "Please don't leave me. We were supposed to have a future. We were supposed to build something clean. Something good."

Her eyes fluttered open, focusing on me with difficulty.

"Love... you," she breathed.

"I love you too. That's why you have to fight. You have to stay."

But her eyes were closing again. Her body going limp.

"Marcella? Marcella!"

No response.

Her chest still rose and fell, but barely. So, I barely had to watch carefully to see it.

Sirens wailed in the distance, getting closer.

The doctor still wasn't here.

And I was watching the woman I loved die in my arms, her blood soaking into the expensive Moroccan rug, while the man who'd caused all of this escaped into the night.

"Please," I whispered again, pressing my forehead to hers. "Please don't leave me."

But she didn't respond.

And I didn't know if she ever would again.