Page 83 of Plus-Size Bratva Possession
Gastone sidestepped the attack, grabbed Ricardo's hand—the one which held the knife—and twisted until his wrist snapped. Ricardo howled and dropped to his knees. Gastone picked up the knife within seconds and towered over Ricardo.
“You killed an innocent woman you claimed to love,” Gastone said in a voice that promised vengeance. “You killed your own child. You framed Elena's family. You don’t deserve to live. I made a mistake letting you go the last time.”
Ricardo backed away, clutching his broken arm. “Wait, please—”
Ricardo made one last desperate lunge, trying to tackle Gastone. In a blur of movement too fast to follow, Gastone drove the knife up and into Ricardo's chest.
My stomach twisted into a knot as I watched him do that. Part of me wanted to look away, but I couldn't. This man had caused so much pain, had tried to kill us both.
Time seemed to slow. Ricardo's eyes widened in shock, and then he went limp, dropping to the floor.
It was over in seconds. Gastone turned immediately, seeking me, and when he saw me watching, something in his expression softened.
“Elena,” he said, reaching for me.
I ran to him, throwing my arms around him. He clutched me just as tightly, his face buried in my hair.
“The Espositos are retreating!” I heard Caspian shout from somewhere.
Sure enough, the remaining men were falling back, abandoning their dead and wounded. Our families had them outgunned and outmanned.
“Let them go,” Gastone bellowed at the others. “We'll deal with them later.”
He turned back to me, brushing hair from my face. “Are you hurt?”
I shook my head, though my entire body ached and the cut on my temple was throbbing. “You're bleeding,” I said, gesturing to his arm.
“It's nothing,” he insisted, though the gash looked deep.
My brothers and Gastone's approached us, all looking worse for wear but alive. There was an uncomfortable moment where no one seemed to know what to say—these two families who had been enemies for so long, now fighting side by side.
“You came,” I said to my brothers, my voice thick with emotion.
“Of course we did,” Federico said, as if there had never been any question.
“Dom tracked your phone,” Carlo explained to Gastone. “Called us both.”
“Smart man,” Gastone nodded, his arm tightening around my waist as if he couldn't bear to let me go.
“We should go,” Dino said, eyeing the dead bodies around us. “Police will be here soon with all that gunfire.”
Gastone nodded. “Elena comes home with me,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
To my surprise, my brothers didn't protest. Gio just nodded. “We'll clean this up,” he said. “You two get those injuries looked at.”
***
Once home, we made our way to the bathroom where the first aid supplies were kept. The bright lights revealed the full extent of our injuries—my temple was still crusted with blood,and the knife had left a shallow cut on my neck. Gastone looked even worse.
“Sit,” I ordered, pointing to the edge of the bathtub. For once, he didn't argue.
I wet a washcloth and gently began cleaning the blood from his face. He winced as I dabbed at his split lip, but didn't pull away.
“You need stitches for this,” I said, examining the cut on his arm.
“Later,” he said, his eyes never leaving my face. “Let me take care of you first.”
“Gastone—”
