Page 57 of Silent Vows

“Let her go, Johnny.” I keep my voice even, the way I’ve heard Matteo do countless times. Like I’m discussing the weather rather than life and death. “She’s not part of this.”

“Oh, but she is.” His smile widens, showing too many teeth. “See, I’ve learned something about you, Bella DeLuca. You’re not like Sophia—weak, easily manipulated. No, you’re much more interesting.” He circles Elena’s chair like a shark scenting blood. “You actually love him.”

“This isn’t about Matteo.”

“It’s always about Matteo.” Johnny moves behind Elena’s chair, using her as a shield. Smart. He knows I won’t risk hitting her. “He took everything from me. My family’s territory, my chance at true power, even Sophia. Now? Now I take everything from him. Starting with you.”

“You already tried that.” I take a careful step forward, cataloging details with an artist’s eye and a killer’s intent. The distance to Elena’s chair. The angle of Johnny’s gun. The way his injuries affect his balance. “How’s that tunnel collapse treating you?”

His handsome face darkens with rage. A bead of sweat rolls down his temple despite the apartment’s perfect temperature. Withdrawal, maybe. The Calabrese family’s cocaine habit is no secret. “Brave little artist. But you made one mistake.” The gun shifts from Elena to me, and I see his hand trembling slightly. “You came alone.”

I meet Elena’s eye. She nods subtly.

“Did I?” I ask.

The words are barely out before I move. Sophia’s knife slides into my hand like it was made for me, the emeralds catching light as it flies. Johnny’s eyes widen a fraction of a second before the blade buries itself in his shoulder—not a killing blow, but enough to make him stumble back, cursing.

“Now!” I scream, and everything happens at once.

Elena throws herself sideways—exactly as we’d planned when I caught her eye—just as Matteo’s men burst through windows and doors. The sound of shattering glass rains down like lethal music, but I’m already moving.

Johnny’s men materialize from doorways and behind furniture, their automatic weapons filling Elena’s pristine apartment with deafening thunder. I dive behind her overturned marble dining table just as bullets chip away at its edge. The Italian stone that she was so proud of now becomes my shield.

“Kill them all!” Johnny’s voice rises above the gunfire, tight with pain and rage. “But leave DeLuca’s bitch for me!”

I risk a glance around the table’s edge. Through gun smoke and flying debris, I count positions—two men by the kitchen, another near the bathroom, Johnny himself using Elena’s designer bookcase for cover. My father’s voice echoes in my head:“See the whole battlefield, bella mia. Find their weaknesses.”

A man appears to my left, thinking he has the drop on me. But I was taught better than that. I roll as he fires, my Louboutins finding purchase on Elena’s blood-spattered marble floor. My gun seems to lift itself, muscle memory taking over. Two shots—one to the knee, one to the shoulder. Nonlethal, but effective. Just like Papa taught me.

“Bella, down!” Antonio’s voice carries over the chaos.

I drop instantly as one of Johnny’s men sprays bullets where my head had been. A vase that probably cost more than my old car explodes above me, raining crystal and roses. The scent of Elena’s favorite flowers mingles with cordite and blood.

“The girl!” Johnny shouts, and I see two of his men moving toward Elena where she’s still bound to the overturned chair.

“Not happening.” I come up firing, catching one in the thigh. The other drops as Antonio’s shot takes him in the chest. But the distraction costs me—Johnny uses the moment to close the distance.

His fist catches my jaw, sending me stumbling back. The gun flies from my hand, skittering under Elena’s imported Swedish couch. But my father didn’t just teach me to shoot—he taught me to fight. I turn the stumble into momentum, using Johnny’s own weight against him. My elbow finds his throat as I spin, driving the air from his lungs.

“Not bad, little artist,” he wheezes, blood from his shoulder wound staining his custom suit. “But not good enough.”

He comes at me again, but his injuries slow him. I see him favor his left side—damage from the tunnel collapse that didn’t properly heal. My next kick finds that weakness, making him double over. But Johnny Calabrese hasn’t survived this long by being easy to kill. His hand locks around my ankle, pulling me off balance.

We go down together, rolling across Elena’s ruined floor as Matteo’s men engage the last of Johnny’s backup. My head cracks against something hard—probably the same marble table that saved my life earlier. Stars explode behind my eyes as Johnny’s hands find my throat.

“I’m going to enjoy this,” he snarls, his handsome face twisted with hate. “Making him watch as the life drains from your pretty eyes. Just like Sophia?—”

The name of Matteo’s dead wife becomes a gurgle. Because Johnny made the same mistake so many others have—he underestimated me. The backup gun strapped to my thigh slides into my hand like it belongs there. The barrel presses under his chin as his eyes widen in surprise.

“I’m not Sophia,” I say clearly, making sure he hears every word. “I wasneverSophia.”

The shot echoes through the suddenly quiet apartment. Johnny’s body slumps forward, but I’m already rolling away. My hands shake slightly as I push to my feet, taking in the carnage around us. Elena’s beautiful home looks like a war zone—bullet holes in imported wallpaper, blood on Swedish furniture, her carefully curated life turned to chaos.

But Elena herself is alive. That’s all that matters. I scramble towards her.

“I’ve got you,” I soothe as I work at her bonds, my fingers steady despite everything. The zip ties have cut into her wrists, leaving angry red marks that make rage burn hot in my chest. “You’re safe now, E. I’ve got you.”

“Boss wants confirmation,” Antonio says, his voice cutting through the silent aftermath. The gunfire has stopped, leaving only the crystalline sound of broken glass settling and Elena’s quiet sobs. The acrid scent of cordite hangs heavy in the air, mixing with spilled perfume from Elena’s shattered collection and the copper tang of blood.

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