281
Elsa
One moment, I’m sitting next to Seb; the next, he’s thrown himself on top of me. I’m thrown from the chair, and somehow, he manages to get under me and cushion my fall. Then, in a move worthy of Keanu Reeves in The Matrix, he flips me over so I hit the ground on my back with his body sprawled over mine.
The breath is knocked out of me, the heat of his body slams into me, and all around me, I hear the sounds of glass breaking, of pops that sound like firecrackers… No, not firecrackers. It’s someone shooting at us. As the popping sounds escalate, I realize it’s more than one person. Perhaps it’s a group of people shooting at us? The sound intensifies until they are coming so close together, it feels like a particularly loud hailstorm, with the hailstones coming at us with such speed that the sound merges together into one continuous screech.
My heart slams into my chest and my pulse pounds at my temples. Above me, Seb grunts and his body shudders. Oh, my god. “Seb,” I try to scream, but the sound is stuck in my throat.
The weight of his body seems to grow heavier. Then, just as suddenly as it started, the sounds fade away. Silence descends, broken only by the sound of something falling to the floor and shattering. I flinch; someone screams… One of the women? Is she hurt? More silence follows, then the sound of a car’s engine breaks the silence. It seems to galvanize everyone, for I hear the sound of people jumping to their feet, followed by footsteps running out of the room.
“Everyone okay?” a man-Michael?-asks.
Seb jumps to his feet and holds out his hand. I grab it and touch something wet. I retract my hand and see blood on my fingers.
“Seb, you’re hurt?” I rake my gaze up his arm, to where blood blots his sleeve. I spring up and my knees seem to give way. He grabs my shoulder with his un-injured arm and hauls me to him. For a second, I rest against his broad chest. Thud-thud-thud. I absorb the beat of his heart against his ribcage. Draw the scent of Seb into my lungs. Some of the tension fades. I’ll always be safe with him.
He’s promised to break me, and while I hate him for saying it with such confidence, I can’t help but look forward to him trying. I can’t wait for him to subdue me. Can’t wait to stand up to him. But first, he’s hurt. OMG, he’s hurt. I pull back in his grasp. His grip loosens, and I take in the blood that stains his shirt. I yank at his sleeve and pull it up to reveal the blood oozing from a gash on his bicep. He winces.
“I’m fine,” he protests.
“You’re bleeding, Seb.” I must be yelling, because almost immediately, Aurora appears next to me.
“Sit down,” she orders.
He seems like he’s about to protest, but Christian appears on the other side of Aurora.
“You heard the doc; sit your ass down, stronzo.” He pulls a chair upright-the chair I was sitting on before Seb pushed me to the floor. He probably saved my life. Oh, my god, he saved my life. If he hadn’t pushed me out of the way… My breath catches in my throat and I whimper.
Seb whips around to face me. “You okay, Princess?”
I don’t reply as Christian pushes down on Seb’s shoulder. He doesn’t have a choice but to sink down into the chair.
I can’t take my gaze off of the blood that saturates his shirt sleeve, OMG, he pushed me to the side, and the bullet hit him. It could have killed him. It could have maimed him, or scarred him. My mouth dries, I can feel my heartbeat in my throat. My pulse thuds at my temples, but this time, it’s not because I fear for my own safety, but for his. If anything happened to him… I wouldn’t be able to bear it. My head spins and I feel faint. In response, Seb pulls me into his lap.
“Wait, what are you doing?”
“Making sure you don’t faint and hurt yourself.”
He sounds so angry. I glance up into his face and those golden eyes of his bore into me. I flinch, try to pull away, but he winds his good arm around my waist and refuses to let go.
“Give me your jacket,” Aurora holds out her hand and Christian pulls off his jacket and hands it to her. She presses it to Seb’s wound, then grabs Christian’s hand and places it over the jacket. “Hold this in place, please.”
Christian complies.
Seb winces. “Cazzo, that hurts.”
“Don’t be a baby,” Christian huffs.
Aurora elevates Seb’s arm then asks, “Is there a first-aid box in the restaurant?”
“Here.” Michael materializes next to us. He’s holding Karma’s arm as if he can’t bear to let go. In his other hand, he has a first-aid box. He places it on the table.
Axel stalks over to join us; his arm is around Theresa. The fabric of his pants over one thigh is ripped and blood stains the fabric surrounding it. He glances at Seb, then at Christian, before turning to Michael.
“This cannot happen again, Don,” Axel growls.
Something passes between the four of them. Seb, angry, is an awesome sight. But the four of them together, with the rage pouring off of them, is over-the-top-and that’s an understatement. I’m not from this world, but even I know that shooting at the Sovranos when they are together and on their home ground, is nothing less than a call to a full-blown war.
“Somehow, I shouldn’t be surprised that this medical kit has all of the supplies I need for stitching this wound,” Aurora grumbles under her breath. “By the way, you’re next, once I’ve seen to Seb.” She jerks her chin in Axel’s direction.
I glance around and take in the broken glasses, plates smashed on the floor, the ripped curtains… The lights seem to have escaped though, which might be the only reason more of us weren’t hurt by flying glass. A trembling grips me. His arm around me tightens and he pulls me even closer.
Footsteps crunch on glass as Paolo walks over to us. He places a tray on the table on which are squat glasses filled with a clear liquid; I surmise it’s grappa.
“Everyone okay in the kitchen?” Michael asks.
His jaw firms. “One of the chefs was wounded; some of us have scrapes from broken crockery. It’s a damn miracle no one is dead.”
“This is the second time this has happened.” Michael balls his fingers into fists. “I’m going after the Camorra. This has their fingerprints all over it.”Exclusive content from NôvelDrama.Org.
“I’m not sure that’s wise,” Seb retorts.
Michael fixes his gaze on my husband. There’s such coldness in his eyes that I shiver and cuddle closer to Seb.
“You have something to say, Capo?” His voice is so placid that I wince.
Seb doesn’t back down. “Nonna wanted us to build bridges with the Camorra.”
“If Nonna were here, she’d understand that the only way to win this war is by crushing our opponents.”
“Or forming an alliance with them.”
“What do you mean?” Christian scowls.
“We were lucky this time. I saw the light reflect off the gun and acted quickly. Next time…” Seb shakes his head. “If anything happens to her…” His grasp on my hip tightens. Pain shudders up my side, but I don’t protest. It’s a reminder that I’m alive, and so is he. I cuddle closer, not caring that there are people around us. He tucks my head under his chin, and runs his fingers over my hair.
“We can’t let this happen again,” Seb says in a hard voice.
“Precisely why we need to finish off the Camorra,” Christian snarls.
“Even if you kill every single person in that clan, someone, somewhere, is going to survive and be back to take vengeance. If not on us, then on our children.” Seb glances pointedly at Karma, who places a hand over her belly.
“Be very careful what you say next. You’re very close to crossing the line.” Michael pushes Karma behind him, blocking her with his body.
“I almost lost my wife. Do you think I don’t want to gun them down? Don’t you think I want revenge for Nonna?” Seb growls.
“It sure doesn’t seem that way from where I am,” Christian snaps.
“Firstly, we don’t know if it is the Camorra behind these attacks. It could be that figlio di puttana, Freddie,” Seb murmurs.
He’s referring to the man who was once their father’s silent partner, so Theresa mentioned to me. The guy threatened Axel and Theresa in London; he shot at Axel, but Axel managed to scare him off.
“There’s a very good chance it is Freddie,” Axel admits.
Both Michael and Christian open their mouths to speak, but Seb holds up his hand. “Hear me out, will you? And trust me. I’m only proposing this because it offers a better long-term, permanent solution.”
The silence stretches for a few moments. “Speak,” Michael growls.
“What I’m going to suggest is a valid consideration, whether the Camorra are behind the attacks or not. I propose…” He glances between them. “I propose that one of us marries a Camorra princess.”
“That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard in a long time, you minchione.” Christian chortles.
Michael, however, doesn’t react. He stares at Seb.
Christian glances in Michael’s direction, then does a double-take. “You can’t be taking this seriously.” He rubs his chin. “Even if the Camorra were behind the attacks-”
“Especially if the Camorra are behind the attacks. There is no better way to transform the bad blood than by arranging a match with one of their women.” Seb holds Michael’s gaze.
“So, it’s true then. The Mafia still believe in arranged marriages?” Axel pulls Theresa closer to him.
“We uphold royal traditions, more than the royal families of today; and you shouldn’t talk, you farabutto.” Christian stabs a finger at Axel. “You agreed to marry Theresa to further your own goals.”
“I was already in love with her when I did. I simply didn’t know it then.”
The men glare at him. Theresa digs her elbow into his side and he winces. “It’s true, Sunshine, you know that.”
“Oh, how the mighty have fallen.” Christian laughs. “Seems Seb’s suggestion isn’t that far out.”
“It certainly has merits,” Michael concedes.
“And you were saying you don’t want to be Capo?” Axel chuckles.
“I still don’t.” Seb blows out a breath.
“You still want to focus on the media-tech based idea, and broach it with JJ and Nikolai?” He’s referring to Nikolai Solonik, the head of the Bratva and the third of the trifecta who own interests in Trinity.
Seb doesn’t reply. Michael glowers at him for a few seconds more, then jerks his chin. “Fine.”
“What?” Christian turns on Michael. “You’re letting him step down?”
“Who do you propose take over as Capo?” Michael asks.
Luca bursts into the room. His shirt is torn and his nose is bleeding, but his features wear a victorious look.
“Got those carogne.”