Page 81 of The Don's Eternal Vows

As I watch Gianni shoot an attacker dead, I know one thing for certain – I've never felt more alive than in this moment, on the edge of death and rebirth.

Then, through the chaos, I spot him. Paolo Greco emerges from the shadows, his face twisted in a sneer. He locks eyes with Gianni, and the world seems to still.

They exchange blows with words.

My breath catches. Even from this distance, I can see the slight twitch in Gianni's cheek, the only sign that Paolo's words have hit their mark.

Gianno says something.

Paolo's response is a bullet. It whizzes past Gianni's ear, close enough to ruffle his hair. The gunfire erupts anew, a deafening symphony of violence.

I watch, transfixed, as Gianni moves with deadly grace. His shots are precise and calculated. One, two, three of Paolo's men fall. But Paolo is relentless, advancing with a maniacal grin.

"He's pinned down," I mutter, my heart racing. Gianni's movements become more frantic, his cover disintegrating under Paolo's assault.

A metallic click echoes across the battlefield. Gianni's gun is empty.

"No," I whisper, my body tensing. "No, no, no."

Paolo's laughter rings out, triumphant and cruel. "Looks like your luck's run out, Montagna."

I feel myself moving before I even realize what I'm doing. The pull I felt earlier has become an irresistible force. Somehow, I know – this is my moment to reclaim my life, my agency.

And maybe, just maybe, save the man I love.

Paolo's finger tightens on the trigger, his eyes gleaming with malicious intent. Time seems to slow, each second stretchinginto an eternity. I can see every detail: the sweat beading on Gianni's forehead, the slight tremble in Paolo's hand, the acrid smell of gunpowder hanging in the air.

Gianni stands tall, unflinching in the face of death. His eyes, those piercing eyes that have seen through me so many times, are fixed on Paolo. There's no fear there, only a cold determination. It makes my heart ache.

"Any last words, Montagna?" Paolo sneers.

Gianni's lips part, but I don't hear his response. My world has narrowed to a singular focus: I have to reach him.

I'm moving before I realize it, my feet barely touching the ground. The chaos around me fades to a dull roar. I weave through the battlefield like a ghost, untouched by the bullets flying past.

"Gianni!" I scream, my voice raw with desperation.

His head snaps towards me, eyes widening in shock. "Genoveva, no!"

But I can't stop—I won't stop. The distance between us shrinks with each pounding heartbeat. I can feel the heat of nearby explosions and smell the acrid tang of gunpowder, but none of it matters.

All that matters is reaching Gianni before Paolo pulls that trigger.

I burst onto the scene, a blur of motion. Paolo's eyes widen with surprise, my sudden appearance sending a ripple of shock through him. Even with the chaos surrounding me, All I can hear is the thundering of my own heart.

"Impossible," Paolo whispers, his gun wavering.

In one fluid motion, I draw the knife concealed at my thigh. The silver blade gleams in the chaos, hungry for retribution. Paolo stumbles back, his composure crumbling.

"Genoveva," Gianni calls out, his voice a mix of awe and concern. "Be careful!"

I don't look at him, my focus only on what I need to do.

"This ends now," I growl, lunging forward.

Paolo fires wildly, but I'm too quick. I dodge and weave, my body moving with a grace I didn't know I possessed. The knife finds its mark, sinking deep into Paolo's chest with a sickening thud. The color drains from his face as recognition dawns, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air. I watch the realization hit him - I'm alive, I'm here, and I'm his reckoning.

"Genoveva," he chokes out, his voice a ragged whisper. "You... you were dead. I made sure of it."

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