Page 73 of Betraying the Mafia Boss

My insides boil and with a snarl of rage, I launch myself at him, our bodies colliding in a whirlwind. I have the upper hand for a second and I love the feeling of my fists connecting with his jaw.

He pushes me down, climbing on top of me and punching me hard in the face. We take our turns at each other, we exchange blow after blow, until we’re both a mess of blood and bruises.

Amidst the chaos, I catch sight of Isabella, her eyes wide with fear. She’s struggling to untie herself.

With a final surge of strength, I overpower Elio, pinning him to the ground as I deliver the decisive blow that knocks him out. I want to kill him but killing him is not enough. I want his last days to be filled with so much pain he begs for death.

I run to Isabella, my heart racing with relief as I free her from the rope and help her stand.

“Vincent, my Nana. I can’t find her anywhere.”

“We’ll find her, but first we need to get out of here.”

Isabella nods. Her skin is pale, her lips chapped and her eyes so lifeless. My heart aches seeing her like this. “Let’s go.” I’m about to usher her out of the warehouse when her eyes widen.

“Vincent!” She pushes me away. It all happens too fast. I hear a gunshot. She clutches her shoulder and falls.

I kneel in front of her, lifting her head. “Isabella.” No response. “Isabella. No. Please wakeup.”

Another gunshot rings in the air. When I look up, Jane has her gun pointed to Elio’s head. Elio’s lifeless body thuds to the ground as the bullet pierces his skull right between his eyes.

“We need to get her to a hospital,” Jane says, kneeling next to me.

I place two index fingers to the side of Isabella’s neck. Relief washes over me when I feel a pulse. “Call an ambulance. Now.”

Ripping my shirt off, I wad it up and press it against the wound.

“You can’t die on me, Isabella,” I plead, my voice hoarse with the pain piercing my heart. “There’s so much I haven’t told you.”

Jane stands to her feet. “Hello? 9-1-1?”

I press on the bullet hole marring her beautiful body and weep. “I love you, Isabella. I love you.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Isabella

Opening my eyes, I blink against the harsh light, my vision blurry before gradually sharpening into focus.

A face comes into view. I can make out his features even with my fogged vision. “Vincent.”

His gaze is fixed on me with an intensity that sends a rush of warmth coursing through my veins as my vision clears.

“Isabella,” he breathes, his voice a gentle whisper as he reaches out to brush a strand of hair from my face. “You're awake. Thank God.”

His words wash over me like a soothing balm, grounding me in the present moment, as I take in the concern etched into his features.

“How long was I unconscious?”

“It’s been three days,” he answers, taking my hand and pressing it against the warmth of his face. “I was so afraid. I thought I was going to lose you.”

Memories of Elio pointing his gun at Vincent fills my mind. “Elio? I thought he was going to kill you.”

“That motherfucker is dead.” He squeezes my hand tighter, his eyes never leaving mine. “Everyone is safe now,” he assures me.

I try to sit up. Pain shoots down my arm and I groan.

Vincent helps me up. “Your wound isn’t healed yet. The doctor said you need proper rest and you can’t use your left hand for some time.”

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