Chapter 7 - In the Belly of the Beast
The deafening roar of automatic weapons echoed off the ballroom's high vaulted ceiling. Muzzle flashes lit up the darkness in strobes of violent white and orange.
People were screaming, trampling over each other in a desperate stampede for the exits.
Nico moved with the speed and precision of a predator born in the dark. Without a word, he unholstered a suppressed pistol from beneath his tuxedo jacket. In the split-second strobe of a muzzle flash, I saw a gunman closing in on us, wearing waiter's uniform with a weapon raised toward my chest.
*Thwack. Thwack.*
Nico fired twice. The man collapsed instantly, dead before he touched the ground.
"Keep your head down!" Nico roared near my ear, shielding me completely as more bullets chewed through the marble pillars around us.
"Boss! Over here!" Marco’s voice cut through the carnage. Marco and three Moretti soldiers appeared through the smoke, forming a protective diamond around Nico and me.
"The power grid was severed from the basement," Marco shouted over the gunshots. "They’re trying to bottle us up in the main foyer! It's Victor's men, reinforced by Salvatore's mercenaries!"
"Salvatore wants my territory," Nico spat, his eyes blazing in the shadows. "He picked the wrong night to gamble."
Nico grabbed my hand, pulling me swiftly through a side service entrance away from the panicked crowd. The adrenaline roared in my ears, drowning out the gunfire. My heart beat so hard it felt like it would crack my ribs. I had lived an ordinary life—worrying about rent, tipping customers, paying debts—and now I was running through a labyrinth of smoke and death with a mafia kingpin.
We burst into an underground wine cellar beneath the estate, the heavy concrete walls muffling the chaos above.
"Marco, secure the perimeter and bring the armored sedans to the service tunnel," Nico ordered, never letting go of my hand.
"On it, Boss," Marco nodded, signaling the two men to follow him down the corridor.
We were left in the damp, shadowy corridor lined with dusty vintage bottles.
Nico immediately pinned me gently against the stone wall, his hands frantically checking my face, my arms, my dress. His breath was ragged, his chest heaving. "Are you hurt? Did any stray glass touch you?"
I looked up at him, tears of terror and raw shock finally spilling over my eyelashes. "Nico... they're trying to kill me because of you. Or kill you because of me. Why are you doing this? I was just a girl who kissed you for five hundred dollars!"
Nico paused. His blood-stained hand cupped my cheek, wiping away a tear with his thumb.
"You think that kiss was an accident, Hannah?" he whispered, his voice trembling with an emotion I had never heard from him before.
I froze. "What?"
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"I've known who you were for months," Nico confessed quietly, his silver eyes vulnerable for the very first time. "I knew your mother. And I promised her before she died that I would protect you from the demons of this city."
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