Page 106 of Mafia Shade's Reluctant Bride
I hit the ground hard. Something sharp tore across my back. The heat was unbearable—like the sun had dropped right onto our heads.
One.
Everything went still.
For a second, I couldn’t hear anything. Just the ringing in my ears and the taste of dust in my mouth. My face scraped against gravel. My lungs burned like I hadn’t breathed in years.
Then, I heard a whimper.
“Matteo…” Maria’s voice was barely a rasp, but it cut through the chaos.
He was okay. Shaken and terrified, but okay. And she was alive. So was I.
We’d made it.
I rolled off them, coughing, my ears still ringing. The building behind us was gone. A twisted, burning shell of what it once was. Smoke curled toward the sky like some terrible offering.
Maria was cradling Matteo and murmuring to him, rocking slightly. Her hands were trembling. Her cheek was scraped, and there was blood on her forehead. But she held him like he was the only thing keeping her anchored to the earth.
And maybe he was.
I sat up, every inch of me aching. My back throbbed where the shrapnel had nicked me, but I didn’t care.
I reached out and touched her shoulder. She turned to me, eyes filled with unshed tears.
“Maria! Matteo! Are you good? You hurt?” I croaked.
She nodded. Then nodded again, like she was trying to convince herself.
Matteo looked at me with wide, scared eyes.
“We are alive,” Maria whispered, and her voice cracked on the words. “You got us out.”
I shook my head. “Barely.”
But I could still feel the heat of the blast and the weight of those last few seconds.
We’d come too close. One wrong step and I wouldn’t be looking at them now. One wrong turn and everything would’ve ended in fire and rubble.
“Remind me never to say ‘trust me’ again,” I muttered, dragging my hand across my face.
Maria let out a weak laugh.
I looked at her and then at Matteo. And for the first time in forever, I felt something like peace settle in my bones—shaky and thin but real.
We were still here.
I led them to the area where I left Luca. Chaos had erupted. Luca was still fighting. I saw him near the front gate, fists flying and blood on his cheek. And Enrico, that smug bastard, stood in the middle of it like he was conducting an orchestra.
“I got them out!” I shouted to Luca.
He didn’t even look. He was too far gone.
He tackled Enrico to the ground, fists slamming into his face over and over. Years of pain behind every blow. The betrayal. The lies. Our father’s murder.
“You killed him! You took everything!”
Enrico just laughed. Blood filled his teeth.
