Page 123 of Savage Union
"And yours were made from desperation," I counter, aware of every ear straining to hear our exchange. "Before I understood what either of you truly wanted."
Vito's head turns slightly, his eyes meeting mine for a heartbeat. Something passes between us—an acknowledgment, perhaps, of the impossible situation I've navigated between these two dangerous men.
"Enough." Vito raises his weapon, aiming it with the steady precision of a man intimately familiar with death. "One more word and you're dead, Costello."
The threat hangs in the air, vibrating with promise. I should be horrified, should be screaming for him to stop. Instead, I find myself frozen, caught between the man I once believed would save me and the man who has, against all odds, become something more complicated than captor.
"Caterina," Liam says, my name a plea and accusation combined. "Come with me now. This is your last chance."
"There is no chance," Vito responds before I can speak. "She will be my wife. Mine by choice, by law, by sacred vow. Your claim is void."
"Let her decide." Liam's hand moves slightly, and I notice for the first time that he too is armed, the outline of a weapon visible beneath his jacket.
"She already has." Vito's finger tightens on the trigger, his patience visibly eroding. "Your final warning, Costello. Leave or die."
The tension stretches between them, two predators circling the same prey. Except I'm no longer prey, not really. Whatever Iwas to either of them initially, something has shifted. I see it in Vito's protective stance, in Liam's desperate plea.
Liam's mouth opens, some final declaration forming on his lips. But it's his hand that telegraphs his true intention—a subtle shift toward his concealed weapon, muscles tensing to draw.
At the same instant, a flash of movement catches my eye. One of the cathedral's side doors eases open, revealing a figure I don't recognize—a lean man with the hard look of Liam's enforcers. His arm rises, a weapon appearing in his hand, aimed directly at Vito's back.
Everything happens in slow motion.
I don't consciously decide to move. My body acts on instinct—protectiveness overriding fear, certainty displacing confusion. I lunge forward, shoving Vito sideways with strength I didn't know I possessed.
"Behind you!" I scream as we fall.
Vito twists as we go down, his weapon discharging with a deafening crack that echoes through the cathedral. My wedding dress tangles around my legs, the train billowing like a sail as we hit the marble floor.
Return fire erupts—the gunman's weapon, then multiple shots from Vito's security team. Through the chaos, I glimpse Liam staggering backward, blood blooming across his shoulder where Vito's bullet found him instead of the headshot it would have been if I hadn't pushed him off-balance.
"Stay down!" Vito commands, his body covering mine protectively as glass shatters somewhere nearby.
More gunshots. Screams. The thud of running footsteps. Vito rises to one knee, firing precisely toward the side door where the gunman has already disappeared. His second shot catches Liam as he turns to flee, adding another crimson stain to his already bleeding shoulder.
"This isn't over!" Liam shouts, his face contorted with pain and rage. His eyes find mine one last time—no longer possessive but betrayed.
He staggers through the door his man fled through, leaving a trail of blood across the marble floor.
Vito's men surge forward in pursuit, weapons drawn. Marco shouts orders, directing the security response. My mother and Sofia are hustled away by Elena, their faces masks of horror. Father Alessandro crosses himself repeatedly, backing away from the altar.
And I remain on the floor, white lace pooled around me, spattered with blood that isn't mine. Vito kneels beside me, his expression a complex mixture of fury, calculation, and something I've never seen before—concern.
"Are you hurt?" he demands, hands moving over me with clinical efficiency, checking for injuries.
"No," I manage, though my pulse races so fast I feel lightheaded. "The gunman—he was aiming at your back."
Understanding dawns in Vito's eyes. "You saw him."
"Yes."
"And pushed me out of the way."
I nod, words temporarily failing me.
His expression shifts, something unreadable flickering across his features. Before he can speak, Dante appears beside us, face grim.
"Boss, we need to move. Now." His tone brooks no argument. "Costello's men are in the perimeter. This was coordinated."
