Page 39 of Defying Love

He filled the doorway like a tempest personified, his broad shoulders casting a shadow that devoured the light. Dominic Gambino's presence was a storm of silent fury, his dark eyes sweeping the room before anchoring on me. In that split second, the world ceased its spin, the menacing figures around me fading into nothingness. His gaze, dark and deep as midnight oceans, held mine. A torrent of emotions played across his face—relief at finding me alive, rage for the situation I had been thrust into.

I felt the tremulous threads of fear within me begin to dissolve, replaced by an overwhelming sense of security. The air shifted as Dominic took a measured step into the room, every line of his body spelling doom for those who dared cross him. It was in that unfathomable look, that fusion of tenderness and wrath, I found my sanctuary. Without a word spoken, I understood; I was safe now, enveloped in the silent promise emanating from Dominic's very being.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Dominic

Kneeling beside her, my hands—those same hands that commanded respect and instilled fear in the hearts of men—shook as they hovered over her for the briefest of moments. Then, desperate for reassurance, they traced the contours of her body with a meticulousness borne of necessity. My fingers skimmed over her arms, her torso, searching for injuries, feeling for the rise and fall of her chest that would signal life amid the nightmare.

"Please, be okay," I murmured, voice a gravelly whisper that betrayed the steel edge of my usual command. The familiar scent of her hair, a mixture of vanilla and something uniquely Alexa, filled my nostrils as I leaned closer. It was a stark reminder of what was at stake, of what I stood to lose.

My touch was gentle yet frantically thorough, each brush of my fingertips against her skin grounding me to the reality of her vulnerability. I needed to feel her warmth, to know that the pulse of life within her hadn't been extinguished. With every second that passed, with every shallow breath she took, the relief that she was alive battled the gnawing terror of what could have been.

In this moment, I was reduced to silent pleas and whispered promises, all for the fragile woman whose life seemed to hang by a gossamer thread.

Her lips parted slightly, a whisper of a breath escaping, and I drank in the sight like a man starved of air. The inherent strength that usually defined me now bowed before the frailty of the woman I vowed to protect. It was a dichotomy of power and vulnerability that raged within me, fueling a protective fervor that would burn the world to ashes before letting harm come to her.

As if summoned by the intensity of the moment, a shadow loomed from the darkness. Nikolai stepped into the dim light, his figure imposing, the cruel smirk on his face a silent testament to the malice that coursed through his veins.

"Pathetic, Gambino," Nikolai sneered, his eyes glinting with malevolence. "Brought to your knees by love."

My gaze never wavered from Alexa's, even as I rose to my full height, positioning myself between her vulnerable form and the threat that Nikolai posed. My body became a shield, muscles taut and ready to unleash the violence that simmered just below the surface.

"Leave her out of this." My tone was ice, a dangerous calm that only those who knew me understood as a prelude to fury.

Nikolai's laughter sliced through the tension, a discordant sound that echoed off the walls of the deserted alley. "You think you can dictate terms to me?"

"Try me," I challenged, stance unyielding, every fiber of my being prepared to engage in a deadly dance with destiny.

The precarious standoff held tight, two titans locked in a gaze that foretold an inevitable clash.

My voice was a blade, sharp and deadly as I spoke. "If you're going to take me out, Nikolai, do it where she can't see."

Nikolai's grin widened, cruel enjoyment lighting up his eyes. "And why would I offer you such a kindness?"

"Because," I said, each word measured and heavy with intent, "you know the kind of hell it'll unleash if you harm her."

"Threats are weak coming from a man in your position." Nikolai's hand rested casually on the gun at his hip, a silent declaration of power.

"Consider it a promise," I countered, unflinching, my own hand itching for my concealed weapon. "One my men intend to keep."

"Promises are made to be broken, Gambino." Nikolai's refusal hung in the air, dense with the stench of animosity that had long festered between us.

I faced the man who had become my father’s nemesis. Nikolai's taunts hung in the air like a toxic mist, but I remained stoic, an unwavering fortress amid the tempest of threats.

"Your move," Nikolai sneered, yet my stance was resolute, a silent testament to his unyielding spirit. I could feel the weight of Nikolai's eyes upon me, attempting to dissect my defenses, but my resolve was ironclad.

"Whatever you're thinking, it won't work," I said, voice level but laced with a steely edge. My broad shoulders squared against the threat before me, embodying the defiance of a man who walked familiarly with danger.

Nikolai's presence was like a looming storm cloud, dark and oppressive, yet I did not falter. Instead, I anchored myself deeper into the moment, my awareness sharpening to a fine point. The chill of the night air seemed to wrap around us, heightening the suspense of the silent duel.

"Is that supposed to scare me?" Nikolai's question sliced through the tension, yet my lips curled into a half smirk, devoid of humor.

"Scared? No. Prepared? Always," I retorted, my gaze never leaving Nikolai's.

The darkness seemed to press in, eager to witness what would unfold in its shroud. I knew the stakes were high, every muscle coiled like a spring, ready to respond to the slightest provocation. It was a dance with death, choreographed by fate, and I was no stranger to its rhythm.

The metallic click shattered the silence, a sinister symphony that resonated with finality. Nikolai's fingers, pale and unyielding, wrapped around the pistol's grip, his thumb pulling back the hammer with deliberate slowness—a predatory grin spreading across his face. The message was clear—there would be no more words, only actions that could snuff out life as swiftly as blowing out a candle.

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