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22
Alaric
Ican hear Monroe’s screams echo through the house and move faster. I’ve heard so many over the years, and not once did it affect me the way Monroe’s pained cry does. It feels like a dagger to my chest, cracking open the icy exterior of my frozen heart, creating a deep ache I’ve never felt before.
Before I met Monroe, I wondered if I had lost my soul altogether and, with it, my ability to feel compassion, to care about another person at all, let alone love someone. But at this very moment, I realize I do love her. I don’t even know when it happened; I just know that her pain is my pain. Her life is mine, and I will do anything to keep her safe, even if that means dying.
Without a doubt, I would die for her, which is exactly why I tighten the grip on my raised gun as I speed walk down the hallway. When I get back to the dining room door, I don’t pause. I don’t wait another minute. I kick her heavy door open and storm into the room like a one-man army.
The element of surprise is the most valuable asset I have, and I use it wisely. Before anyone in the room knows what’s happening, I fire the first shot, hitting Vinny right between the eyes. Before his body has time to slumps down to the ground, I’ve already fired another shot at Bruno. Unfortunately, the bastard twists around quickly, and I only hit his shoulder.
“What the fuck!” he roars while pulling his own gun. But this time, I’m faster. I fire my gun again, hitting him in the side of the head. His body goes slack, joining Vinny’s lifeless form on the ground.
“Traitor!” Alessandro spits, drawing my attention to him. He holds Monroe by the neck, a knife pressed against the skin right below her skin. Her face is red, and her eyes are puffy. Tears fall down her beautiful fear-struck face. The top of her wedding dress is ripped, the silky fabric hanging off her shoulder like an old rag.
Rage. All I can feel is unbridled rage flowing through my veins, taking over every fiber of my body. I move on instinct, stepping toward them, toward the woman I love, who needs me more than ever.
“Guards!” Alessandro yells, and I don’t miss the hint of fear in his tone.
“They’re not coming,” I say smoothly. “They are either dead or have turned against you. Not surprisingly, most of them simply hated you and were happy when I offered them an out.”
“Take another step closer, and she is dead, you bastard.” He digs the knife into her tender skin, drawing both blood and a whimper out of Monroe. I stop, my feet suddenly connected to the floor.
“Let her go, and I will make it quick,” I offer. “You might be a vile asshole, but you are not dumb. You know you’re not going to make it out alive.”
“You are in my house! I don’t need to make it out. My men are loyal!” he screams, making Monroe flinch.
“Then where are they now? If they are so loyal, where are they now? Do you think I killed them all in the five minutes I’ve been gone?”
His face turns red, the vein on his forehead building, ready to explode. He knows I’m right. There is no way I silently killed his twenty guards, plus the other staff around the house. Shots have been fired, and no one is coming for him. He never cared about a single person in his life, and in return, no one cares about him.
“If that’s so, I’m taking your fucking slut with me,” he sneers. His hand tightens around the knife, and my heart stops. The same heart that was frozen for so long begins and stops beating again, all in the same day.
The blade slices through her delicate skin, and blood runs down her slender throat. I aim my gun at Alessandro's head, but I don’t lift it fast enough…
A shot rings out, and I lunge forward at the same time. The knife slips out of Alessandro’s fingers and falls to the ground between us. Monroe’s fear-stricken face goes ghostly white, her hands clutching at her bleeding throat hysterically.
I drop my gun and reach for her, pulling her into my body. I simply hold her to my chest as I sink to my knee. “Baby, look at me. Let me see,” I order, tugging her hand away just enough to see how bad it is.
Blood is trickling down her wound, but it’s not deep. He didn't hit an artery. I pull her body close, and she buries her face in my chest and starts sobbing. Her whole body trembles, but I sigh in relief. She is alive—shaken up, but alive.
I take in Alessandro’s lifeless body on the floor, a puddle of blood forming around his head. His eyes are open, but they are dull, the life in them already vanished. Savio is standing like a statue behind him with his gun still raised. He came in through the terrace door and shot him in the back of the head. It was his plan. He told me that it needed to be done because Alessandro had lost his way. But even so, Alessandro was still his brother. Evil or not, blood is blood, and Savio just killed his own.
“You did the right thing,” I try to assure him, but I don’t think he can hear me. His eyes are glued to the man he just murdered.
Another moment passes before the door opens and two guards walk in. They scan the room, quickly assessing the situation. “Boss?” One of them approaches Savio carefully.
“What?” He lifts his head, snapping out of whatever shock he was in.
“The compound is secure. The men who were loyal to your brother are all taken care of.”
“We can take care of this too.” The second guard motions to the three dead bodies on the floor.
Savio nods. “Yes, take care of this… What about the other staff?”
“The maids and the cook are in the basement like you’ve asked. None of them were harmed,” the guard assures.
“Good work,” Savio praises his men, something his brother never did. “You should take your new wife home, my friend.” He turns to me. “I’ll have one of my men drive you to your place.”
