Chapter 73: I Got You I

Chapter 73: I Got You I
Joella

Security around the estate was tighter than ever, an invisible net woven with precision and quiet vigilance. Every corner seemed to have eyes, silent sentinels carefully placed, discreet yet always present. Haden had doubled, no, tripled the guards. Tony had practically become my shadow, especially when I took the boys anywhere. Even simple errands to the store had become elaborate operations, meticulously planned and executed.

Things had escalated significantly after Maxim’s threats intensified, the letters he sent to Cooper Inc. and Blaze becoming increasingly graphic, filled with chilling promises of violence and harm. Each new threat made Haden grow tenser, his demeanor colder, quieter, fiercely protective. I could see the quiet fury in his eyes, the tightness in his jaw, every restless glance he cast toward the security cameras.

One evening, curiosity and concern got the better of me. I tried to pry details from Tony while we stood near the garden, the setting sun casting an amber glow over the carefully tended flowers.

"Tony," I started softly, "what exactly is going on? Haden’s acting like war’s about to break out."

Tony's eyes softened for just a moment, but his resolve remained firm. "You need to talk to your husband, little one," he said gently but firmly, his gaze unwavering.

"It's not my place to say."

I sighed softly, already knowing he was right. Each time I thought about confronting Haden, I hesitated, afraid to hear out loud what I already feared was true. Haden knew my hesitation too, he always did, and instead of pressing me, he would hold me tighter, whispering reassuringly, "I got you," into my hair, his voice a steady promise that always managed to calm my fears.

Now, Morgan and I sat together at yet another baby shower, this time celebrating Micah and Adelina. Babies seemed to be arriving in waves among our circle lately. Micah was practically glowing with pride each time someone mentioned the little boy on the way. In our world, having a son was like passing an invisible milestone. Girls were deeply cherished, but sons brought a particular sense of pride, tied directly to legacy and succession.

I'd first noticed this change when Morgan and Luca discovered their second child was going to be a boy. Luca began carrying himself with even more confidence, a pride that infused every step and gesture. Haden had explained it to me once, saying softly, “Girls are precious and deeply loved, Ella, but Nonna was truly unique. Most men in our world don't expect or want their daughters to shoulder the burden of leading this violent life. Our girls are princesses, meant to be adored and shielded.”

As for myself, my dreams of welcoming a little girl this time around were dashed when we discovered we'd be having another boy. Haden wore a cocky smirk for weeks afterward, enjoying every second of being proven right yet again.

My laughter drifted softly through the room as I watched Papa Russo pile another plate with fresh fruit and pastries. He never missed an opportunity to indulge at gatherings.

"I genuinely don't understand how he eats so much yet stays in such incredible shape at his age," Morgan remarked, laughing as she shook her head.

"It really is impressive," I agreed with amusement. "I suppose it gives us hope our men will age just as gracefully."

Our conversation was paused when Adelina approached, her soft glow enhanced by her baby blue off-the-shoulder dress, a gentle smile lighting up her face.

"Thank you both so much for coming, and for the lovely gifts," she said warmly. "Micah’s already planning matching outfits."

We laughed warmly with her. Adelina was calm and grounded, a perfect contrast to Micah’s lively nature. It was clear to everyone how perfectly she balanced him, smoothing out his rough edges and settling him in a way no one else had managed.

Yet, as Adelina moved on, something shifted in the corner of my eye. Haden and Tony stood together, heads slightly bowed, engaged in an intense, hushed conversation. Tony had been vigilant all day, fixed to the large window, eyes sharp with constant alertness. Their posture now conveyed an unmistakable urgency, tension etched deeply in their rigid stances, and expressions darkening.

"Ella, is everything okay?" Morgan whispered, clearly noticing the change in my demeanor.

"I'm not sure," I murmured softly, eyes locked on Haden, my chest tightening instinctively. Other men around the room began picking up on the unspoken cues, shifting subtly, eyes becoming watchful, laughter growing muted and guarded.

The joyful atmosphere we'd been basking in moments before had swiftly evaporated, replaced by a subtle but palpable tension. I swallowed quietly, instincts screaming at me to stay alert, to prepare for whatever shadows lurked at the edges of our carefully constructed peace.

.
.
.

Haden

I moved swiftly to the back of the building, toward the security room where the CCTV monitors flickered in a dim glow. Micah had chosen this venue for one reason only, the security. Multiple cameras. Reinforced windows. A layout that could funnel an ambush if needed.

But it wasn’t enough.

Tony had flagged several alerts from stationed guards. A white unmarked van spotted circling the block. Not once. Not twice. But repeatedly, slow enough to make the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

I rewound the footage manually, scanning each angle with surgical precision.

There.

The van crept past the side alley. I cycled through feeds until I found a shot of the windshield. Adjusted. Zoomed.

My jaw clenched the moment his face came into view.

Maxim.

In the passenger seat, eyes forward. Smirking. Like he already knew we were watching.

“Tell the men to clos-” The sentence shattered mid-command.

Gunshots erupted like an explosion of chaos, drowning out every other sound. Screams followed. Muffled at first, then clearer, closer. The sound of glass cracking, metal pinging. I could tell by the cadence...controlled bursts. Not random. Tactical.

“Go!” I barked, and Luca and I took off running toward the front, weapons already drawn, instincts kicking in like fire in my veins.

The front windows, reinforced bulletproof, held for now, but the scene beyond them was carnage. Several of our men were already down, blood blooming across their shirts like damn targets. Others were returning fire, using parked cars and pillars for cover.

My eyes cut through the crowd, searching.

Where the fuck was she?

Then I saw her, Ella, poised despite the chaos, moving toward the back of the room with Morgan close behind her. They’d ducked into a corridor near the back exit, just like we’d discussed. Just like I told her.

I moved fast, weaving through fleeing guests and toppled chairs. My focus narrowed on her and nothing else. She turned the moment I approached, her eyes locking with mine.

And something in them stopped me cold.

It wasn’t fear.

It was fury.

A quiet, seething rage I’d never seen before. Her jaw was tight, eyes burning, fingers clenched around her designer bag like it was a weapon.

“Do you have your gun?” I asked low, urgent.

She gave a firm nod, gripping the bag tighter.

“Do you remember what I said?” I needed to hear it. Not for me, for her. I needed to know she wasn’t panicking. That she was ready.

“Yes,” she said, voice steady. Clipped. Sharp.

Good.

Morgan was shaking beside her, wide-eyed and pale. Luca wrapped an arm around her, speaking softly into her ear. I didn’t hear the words, but she nodded, clinging to him like she needed something solid to anchor her.

We moved quickly toward the back exit. Every step was calculated. I kept Ella pressed against my side, one hand on her back, the other still gripping my gun. Luca mirrored me with Morgan. Our men had already begun clearing a path to the SUVs.

Just a few more steps. Just a few more.

Click.

The sound stopped time.

My finger twitched on the trigger. My ears rang with the sharpness of it.

Not a door.

Not a heel on concrete.

That was a hammer being pulled back.

Right behind us.

“Get down!” I roared, turning just as the first shot rang out.

Ella dropped like I told her. I fired blind over my shoulder, using instinct and reflex. Luca spun, taking a bullet to the vest but staying on his feet. The world was noise and smoke and fire, and I moved without thinking, shielding Ella with my body, pressing her down behind the car.

“Stay down!” I growled, already pushing up and returning fire.

More gunshots. Yells. Heavy boots on concrete. Blood splattered across the hood of the SUV, but I couldn’t tell if it was ours or theirs.

Maxim’s men had breached the perimeter.

He didn’t come to intimidate.

He came to kill.

And he brought enough firepower to try.

But he underestimated one thing.

I wasn’t running. Not now. Not ever.