Page 40 of Defying Love

My instincts screamed danger, yet I remained a statue carved from stone, my body tensed for impact. The night air grew heavy with the scent of impending violence, the kind that left stains on the soul that no amount of regret could cleanse.

In that heart-stopping moment, I turned, movements fluid despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins. My eyes found Alexa, her figure bathed in the sickly yellow light that did nothing to mask her vulnerability. The world narrowed to the space between us, every detail imprinted onto my memory—the way her hair framed her face in golden waves, the tremble of her lips, the silent plea in her eyes that spoke volumes of the shared torment.

Our gazes locked, an invisible thread weaving through the chaos, tying us together in an unspoken vow. It was a look that carried the weight of every unuttered promise, every whispered confession in the dark, every tender touch that defied the harshness of the reality. In the depths of Alexa's blue eyes, I saw not just fear but an unwavering trust, a beacon in the night that guided me through the tempest raging within.

Time slowed, the pulsing beat of my heart the only sound that seemed to exist. I memorized her image, a talisman against the darkness, as the gun in Nikolai's hand promised a verdict with its cold, steel kiss.

My jaw tensed, resolve hardening like forged steel as I faced the man who threatened to shatter my world. Nikolai's gun—a merciless judge poised to deliver a final sentence—held steady in the tremulous air between us. But it was not death that clawed at my insides; it was the thought of leaving Alexa alone in the shadows we had navigated together.

Nikolai pointed the gun straight at her.

A surge of protectiveness, fierce and primal, rose within me, drowning the fear that whispered of my possible demise. My stare bored into Nikolai, conveying an unspoken challenge that ricocheted off the walls, as palpable as the scent of gunpowder hanging in the air.

"Alexa is off-limits. You know the rules, Nikolai."

The subtle click of the hammer being pulled back was the only response—a sound that normally would've made lesser men flinch. Not me. My gaze never wavered from Nikolai's, even as sweat beaded at my temple, the cool metal of the gun glinting ominously under the flickering lights.

"Rules?" Nikolai sneered, the word distorted by malice. "I make my own."

The stand-off stretched taut, a single moment laden with lifetimes of decisions, regrets, and the relentless pursuit of power. My thoughts spiraled back to Alexa, to the promises I'd made, the future I'd envisioned—a future that now hung by a gossamer thread.

I took a measured breath, every sinew in my body coiled and ready. The look I gave Alexa was a silent declaration, a testament to the inferno that raged within—love intermingled with an ironclad oath to shield her from the tempest of the world. She was mine to protect, mine to cherish, and no bullet could sever the bond we shared.

"Then shoot me," I dared.

Nikolai's finger tightened on the trigger, the threat of violence swelling like a storm about to break.

Chapter Thirty

Dominic

The first window shattered with the explosive fury of betrayal. Glass rained down like diamond shards as figures clad in black poured through the breach, their guns spitting fire and death. My instincts surged to life, my body reacting with honed agility as bullets whizzed by.

Chaos erupted, a tempest of motion and violence. I ducked and returned fire at Nikolai’s men.

My gaze swept the room, heart pounding against my rib cage as I located Alexa still bound to a chair, eyes wide with fear.

"Alexa," I breathed, crossing the space between us in swift strides. My deft fingers worked quickly, unraveling the ropes that held her captive and they fell away.

"Go to the SUV outside and lock the doors. If you see anyone but me come out of these doors, you take the SUV and get far away. Stay there until I come for you. Understand?"

Alexa nodded, her lips parting to whisper a wordless thank you that resonated in the charged air. With a final glance that melded gratitude and concern, she fled.

Drawing a deep breath, I turned back toward the fray, the weight of my love for Alexa anchoring me to the perilous present. I couldn't fail—not when so much hinged upon my shoulders.

The house became a battlefield. Gunfire echoed through the halls, a macabre dance of death played out in flashes of muzzle light.

Movements were a blur, a dance with the devil as I navigated through the destruction, each step calculated, each decision a matter of life or demise. Bullets whizzed past, embedding themselves into walls.

I was the storm incarnate, fury and focus entwined within every fiber of my being. The thud of bodies hitting the floor punctuated my advance.

I stood still for a heartbeat, my chest heaving from exertion as my gaze swept over the fallen bodies of my enemies. Each lay motionless, a testament to my deadly precision in the face of chaos.

I stepped over a lifeless form, the once-looming threat now extinguished by my hand. A gun dangled loosely from my fingers, its barrel still warm. The shadows clung to me, draping over my broad shoulders like a cloak. In the suffocating quiet, the staccato rhythm of my heart was the only sound that dared pierce the aftermath.

My path was a trail marked by destruction, the marble floor stained dark red, spreading before my eyes. My jaw set in grim satisfaction; these men had sought to dismantle everything I held dear, but they had underestimated the ferocity of a Gambino cornered. I had been forged in the fires of this merciless world, and within these walls, I was the judge and executioner.

But the victory was hollow, the bitter taste of ash on my tongue, as a more pressing dread clawed at my insides.

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