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"Rafaele, one of my enemies’, sent his men to attack the compound," I explain to Romola, her eyes widening with terror at the revelation. "I need to go out there and confront them. You stay here; I promise I'll be back for you." My heart aches as I see her struggling to remain composed, her trembling hands betraying her fear.
"Be careful, Fiero," she whispers, tears glistening in her gray eyes. It takes every ounce of strength I possess not to pull her into my arms and shield her from the brutal reality outside these walls.
"Always," I assure her, forcing a confident smile. As I turn away, I can't help but wonder if my words are more for her benefit or mine. The weight of responsibility for her crushes any semblance of certainty I once had.
With one last look, I close the door between us.
I step out of the safe room and into the battleground that has engulfed my compound. My heart races, fueled by adrenaline, as the sound of gunfire draws nearer.
"Damn it, Rafaele," I mutter under my breath, my mind working furiously to understand the reason behind this unexpected invasion. There must be something I've missed, some crucial piece of information that would explain why he would attack me like this.
As I sprint toward the center of the conflict, the scent of smoke fills my nostrils, stinging my eyes and clouding my vision.
"Boss!" one of my men shouts over the cacophony. "We need orders!"
"Divide into teams and secure the perimeter!" I command, my voice strained and hoarse. "Protect our people at all costs! We defend, don’t attack. Whatever happens, don’t let them breach our line of security. Tire them out, and when they need to refuel, attack."
"Understood!" he nods, rallying the others to follow him.
Despite the chaos around me, my thoughts keep drifting back to Romola, her frightened gaze haunting me as I make my way through the battlefield.
"Rafaele!" I grab a loudspeaker and roar my message to the man responsible for scaring my dove, the man who is senselessly killing my men. "Show yourself, you coward!"
I leave the house and crouch low behind a crumbling stone wall, scanning the grounds for any signs of Rafaele's men. This is our home, and I will not let it fall without a fight.
The shadows cast by the flickering flames reveal glimpses of movement, giving me an idea of the enemy's positions. I know that in order to succeed, we must outmaneuver and outthink them. "Marco! Luca!" I shout, signaling two trusted members of my mafioso. They appear at my side. "I need you to flank left and take out those snipers. Move quickly and quietly."
"Understood," they nod, disappearing into the darkness as I turn my attention back to the battlefield.
"Raffa, Alessandra," I use my walkie-talkie. "We need to cut off their reinforcements. Create a diversion and draw them away from the main gate."
"Got it, boss," Raffa replies.
Suddenly, I spot a group of Rafaele's men advancing towards the compound. With fluid, practiced movements, I engage them, my hands finding the grip of my gun with ease. I fire off a volley of shots, dropping two before they even know I'm there.
"Who's there?!" one shouts, trying to find me in the darkness. I smirked, using their confusion to my advantage as I stealthily closed the distance between us.
"Looking for me?" I taunt, stepping out from my cover and taking down another with a swift kick to the chest. He collapses, gasping for breath as his weapon clatters to the ground.
"Damn you, Cremaschi!" the last man snarls, lunging at me with a knife. But I'm ready for him, my reflexes honed by years of training. I sidestep his attack and disarm him, driving my fist into his face with a satisfying crunch.
"Tell Rafaele he picked the wrong address to come looking for a fight," I growl, leaving the defeated attacker on the ground as I race towards the next threat. My heart pounds in my chest, fear and fury propelling me forward as I fight tooth and nail to protect my home and the people within it.
As bullets whiz past and the stench of gunpowder fills my nostrils, a memory suddenly sears through my mind like a bullet tearing through flesh. It was just a week ago when I had intercepted that shipment, seizing the mysterious cargo meant for Rafaele's operation.
I had felt a surge of triumph then, believing I had dealt a significant blow to my rival in exchange for threatening my Romola. But now, as I crouch behind an overturned table, I realize that my actions may have provoked this very assault on my compound.
"Damn it," I mutter under my breath, aware now that my choices have led to this night of terror for Romola and my people.
"Get down!" I shout to one of my men as he barely ducks in time to avoid a hail of gunfire. "Flank them from the left! We need to push them back!"
I sprint from my cover, firing off controlled shots as I move toward another vantage point. My heart hammers in my chest, but fear has no place within me now.
I vow silently that Rafaele will regret ever crossing me. My eyes scan the battlefield for any sign of him. I know he must be here, orchestrating this siege like a twisted puppet master. And I will make him face the consequences of his actions.
"Boss, we've got more incoming!" Marco, one of my most trusted lieutenants, calls out as he takes cover beside me.
"Then we'll show them they made a grave mistake coming here," I reply, gritting my teeth.
