Page 41 of Surprise Baby for the Don

I’m frozen, my mind struggling to catch up with what I’m seeing.

“Get out now, Bella,” he grumbles, his voice low and urgent, as if he doesn’t have time for any arguments. Before I can respond, he turns, firing a shot at Carlo, who dives behind his desk with a shout.

He pushes me out of the office, back into the hallway where hell has broken loose. The noise is overwhelming, a symphony of gunfire and shouted orders, the metallic tang of blood filling the air. My ears are ringing, my heart pounding as I duck, instinctively throwing my hands over my head as bullets fly around me. I see Mateo moving toward me, his body shielding mine as he pulls me down, guiding me to a corner where we can hide.

“Stay low,” he mutters, his voice barely audible over the cacophony of noise. I nod, pressing myself against the wall, trying to make myself as small as possible, every nerve in my body on edge, every sound amplified in the echoing chamber of the warehouse, every shadow a potential threat.

“What about my dad?” I asked. I was still upset with him, but I couldn’t leave his body in there alive or not.

“I will send one of my guys to retrieve him. But first, we have to make sure you are safe above all else.”

I nod and look over to see one of the Savini’s men crouched down a few feet from us, seemingly too distracted by the sound of gunfire to even notice that we’re there. Mateo lunges forward before he can react, smashing his fist into the man’s face with a brutal efficiency that leaves him unconscious. He snatches up the man’s gun, checking it with a quick, practiced movement before turning back to me, his eyes fierce, determined.

He pushes me behind a stack of crates, his gaze flicking around the room, getting his bearings, checking for any other potential danger. I watch him, my heart racing, my body tense, as he raises the gun, and begins carefully creeping to the edge of our hiding spot, watching for more of the Savinis’ men.

The gunfire erupts again, and I press myself closer to the pallets, curling myself into a small ball. The sound is so loud it feels like it’s rattling my bones. I hear a gun go off close by and look up to see Mateo firing, his movements precise, controlled, and I hear the sound of a body hitting the floor.

I watch in awe, my fear momentarily forgotten as he takes down two more of the Savinis’ men with a brutal efficiency. The men didn’t even see him coming, didn’t even have a chance to fight. He’s a perfect marksman.

Gunshot continues to echo through the warehouse for several more moments while Mateo stands there, guarding me. And then, suddenly, there’s complete silence. It becomes eerily quiet, the only sound I can hear is the ringing in my ears and my ragged breath. Mateo comes over to me, crouching in front of me to check me out.

“Are you okay?” he asks quietly, or at least it sounds quiet compared to the roaring in my ears.

I simply nod, and weakly start to stand, leaning on him to help me up. His arms wrap around my waist and he pulls me against him. For the first time in hours, I feel my body relax against him, resting for just a moment. I finally feel like I can catch my breath.

But too quickly he pulls away, grabbing my hand and pulling me out of our hiding place. I’m reluctant to go, but I know we can’t just stay here all night.

As we walk through the warehouse, I glance around, my heart pounding, my hands shaking as I take in the scene around us. Bodies lie scattered on the ground, pools of blood staining the concrete, the air thick with the scent of gunfire and death. I focuson breathing through my mouth, letting the weight of Mateo’s hand in mine steady me. We’ll be out of this soon.

Mateo steps forward, his voice ringing out in the silence, strong and unyielding.

“Carlo! Come out!” he shouts, his tone a challenge, a dare. “Face me one on one, if you’re man enough!”

There’s no response, only the faint hum of the fluorescent lights overhead, casting a harsh, unforgiving light over the carnage. Mateo’s gaze hardens, his jaw clenching as he continues carefully stepping forward, his eyes scanning the shadows, searching for any sign of movement.

“Rocco!” he calls, his voice echoing through the empty warehouse, the desperation creeping into his tone despite his best efforts to keep it hidden.

For a moment, there’s only silence, and I feel a sinking dread settle over me, the weight of everything pressing down, crushing me. But then, a faint voice reaches my ears, thin but unmistakable.

“I’m over here,” Rocco’s voice, barely more than a whisper, but enough to send a surge of relief through me.

I spot him slumped against a stack of crates, his face pale, blood staining his shirt. Without thinking, I dart forward, ignoring the ache in my muscles, the fear in my chest, as I kneel beside him, reaching out to steady him.

Mateo is right behind me, his face a mixture of anger and relief as he takes in Rocco’s condition. I can see the conflict in his eyes, the hurt, the betrayal, but right now, all of that is pushed aside, replaced by a fierce, protective instinct that drives him forward.

Rocco’s gaze flickers to Mateo, his expression pained, regretful.

“It was a double cross,” he rasps, his voice weak but determined. “I’d never go against the you or your family, Mateo. Never.”

Mateo’s jaw tightens, and he crouches down, his hand gripping Rocco’s shoulder, his voice rough with emotion. “It’s okay,” he mutters, his tone softer than I’ve ever heard it. “It’s over. Just stay with us, all right?”

Rocco nods, his eyes drifting shut for a moment, as if the effort of speaking has taken everything out of him.

Mateo glances at me, his gaze intense, commanding. “Ginny, stay with him. Get him out of here. Find Bats and Red,” he orders, his tone leaving no room for argument.

I nod, swallowing hard as we slip our arms around Rocco, helping him to his feet. Once he’s up, Mateo nods at me and turns away, looking for Carlo. Rocco is heavy, his body leaning on mine as we make our way toward the door, each step a struggle, but I have to get him out of here. He saved my life. He saved Mateo’s.

As we slowly make our way out of the warehouse, the silence is oppressive, every creak, every shadow a potential threat, but I force myself to focus, to keep moving. Rocco’s breathing is labored, each step seemingly painful to him, but he doesn’t complain, his gaze fixed ahead, jaw clenched as he wills himself to get outside.

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