Page 33 of Marco

Alessia

The compound explodes into chaos as the door blows open. Marco's men swarm inside, guns blazing. I crouch behind the overturned table, my pulse racing. Relief surges through my body as I realize they're here to rescue me, although I recognize things are far from over yet. Boots pound across the concrete floor. Bullets zing past. I squeeze my eyes shut, willing it to be over.

"Alessia!" A familiar voice shouts my name. Rocco. I peer over the edge of the table. Rocco strides toward me, his face streaked with blood and grime, his eyes burning with determination. He reaches for my hand to pull me up.

That's when the gunshot splits the air.

Rocco's body jerks, a blossom of red spreading across his chest. His mouth forms a surprised O shape as he crumples to the ground.

I scream, frozen in horror. Men shout and scramble around us. Rocco's blank eyes stare at nothing. Bile rises in my throat. After everything, he died to save me.

A firm hand grasps my shoulder. "We have to move, now!" Marco's lieutenant urges. I take one last look at Rocco's body, grief and guilt twisting my gut. It feels wrong leaving him here like this, but we have no choice. Then I let the lieutenant guide me outside into blazing sunlight, the taste of freedom tainted by death.

Marco is waiting by the idling cars, his men forming a protective circle around him. His head snaps up as we emerge from the compound. Relief floods his eyes, quickly replaced by concern as he takes in my disheveled state.

"Alessia," he breathes, stepping toward me. I flinch involuntarily at his sudden movement. Marco's face darkens. "What did they do to you?" he growls.

I shake my head, unable to speak. The past few days crash over me—the terror, the isolation, Rocco's lifeless eyes. My legs give out and I sink to my knees, ragged sobs tearing from my throat.

Marco kneels and pulls me against his chest, enveloping me in his warmth and familiar scent. "Shh, I've got you now. You're safe," he murmurs into my hair.

I cling to him, the dam broken. All the fear and trauma pour out of me. Marco's strong arms support me, his hand stroking my back gently. He whispers soothing words in Italian as I soak his shirt with tears.

Gradually my sobs subside to hiccups. Marco tilts my chin up, his eyes roving my face. I must look a mess—bruises, scratches, tangled hair, dirt-smudged skin. His jaw tightens as he takes in each mark marring my skin.

"I'll make them pay for this," he vows darkly.

I shake my head again, too exhausted for vengeance. "Just take me home," I whisper.

Marco presses a fierce kiss to my forehead. "Let's go home." Despite his acquiescence, I can tell its not over yet. But for now, retribution can wait.

He helps me to my feet, keeping an arm around my waist as he leads me to the waiting car. I sag against him, the fight drained out of me. But with Marco at my side, I feel a flicker of hope again. We've been through hell, but we survived. Together.

Marco helps me into the backseat of the sleek black car. I sink into the plush leather, comforted by the familiarity of it, the scent of Marco's familiar aftershave permeated every corner. This is Marco's car, his world. A world I thought I might never see again.

As Marco slides in next to me, I study his face. The lines around his eyes are deeper, his mouth set in a grim line. But his eyes soften when they meet mine. He's so very handsome, even when he's exhausted. He brushes a strand of hair from my face gently.

"How are you feeling?" he asks.

I let out a shaky breath. "Honestly? Like I've been hit by a truck. Everything hurts. I'm exhausted."

Marco nods, his jaw tightening again. "I'm so sorry, Alessia. I should have protected you better."

"It's not your fault," I say, taking his hand in mine.

We sit in silence for a few moments. So much has happened, it's hard to process it all. The kidnapping, the beatings, wondering if each day would be my last. And now here I am, safe with Marco again. It almost doesn't feel real.

"I thought I'd never see you again," I confess in a small voice.

Marco squeezes my hand. "I wasn't going to stop until I found you. I would have torn the city apart if I had to."

I know it's true. Marco's loyalty and determination are unmatched. Still, the danger he put himself in to rescue me leaves me uneasy.

"Promise me you won't take risks like that again," I say.

Marco hesitates before answering. "I can't make that promise. Not if it means losing you."

"Your life is too important," I insist, meeting his dark gaze.

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