Chapter 8 - The Bypass
My blood ran completely ice-cold.
The digital countdown timer on the panic room panel lit up in flashing red text:
BYPASS OVERRIDE: 00:59... 00:58... 00:57...
"Emma?" Matteo whimpered, looking up at the flashing red light on the wall. "What is that noise?"
"It's okay, baby," I whispered, my voice trembling wildly as panic threatened to drown me. "Just stay on the couch. Don't move."
I stood up, my eyes frantically searching the small panic room.
On a steel shelf near the emergency medical kit lay a heavy tactical flashlight made of solid aircraft aluminum, along with a small, folded pocket knife. I snatched up the flashlight, gripping it tightly in my left hand, my bandaged right hand useless for heavy lifting.
00:30... 00:29... 00:28...
Marco was going to break through the steel door in less than thirty seconds. If he came through that door, he would take Matteo—and he would kill me.
I stood three feet from the heavy steel door, raising the heavy metal flashlight over my shoulder, my knuckles turning white, my breathing ragged and fast.
00:05... 00:04... 00:03...
CLICK-CLACK.
The heavy pneumatic lock disengaged with a loud hiss. The three-inch steel door slowly slid open into the dark wardrobe.
Marco Bellini stood in the opening, a cruel, triumphant smirk spreading across his rain-slicked face, raising his suppressed shotgun straight toward the interior.
"Found you, little maid—"
Before he could finish the sentence, I stepped forward with everything I had and swung the heavy aluminum flashlight with all my strength straight into the side of his jaw.
CRACK!
The heavy metal struck his bone with a sickening thud. Marco let out a muffled yell, stumbling backward into the dark wardrobe, his shotgun clattering harmlessly against the wooden floorboards.
I didn't stop. I lunged forward, using my foot to kick the shotgun far out of his reach into the bedroom.
Marco spat blood onto his coat, his eyes burning with pure, psychopathic rage as he scrambled to his feet. "You crazy bitch!"
He lunged at me, his large hands reaching for my throat. I ducked, but he managed to grab the collar of my sweater, throwing me violently against the doorframe. Pain exploded through my shoulder, and I hit the carpeted floor hard, the heavy flashlight slipping from my left hand.
Marco towered over me, pulling a long hunting knife from his tactical belt. "I'm going to carve you up in front of the kid—"
Suddenly, a massive, dark shadow lunged into the bedroom from the hallway.
Before Marco could react, a huge, tattooed hand clamped firmly around his throat from behind, lifting the six-foot-two mobster completely off his feet and slamming him with bone-shattering force against the stone wall.
It was Luca.
He was covered in rain and dark blood, his white shirt torn at the shoulder, his eyes burning with a dark, demonic fury that was terrifying to behold.
"You put your hands on her," Luca growled, his voice a low, terrifying rumble from the depths of hell.
Marco gasped for air, his feet kicking uselessly in the air, trying to drive his hunting knife into Luca’s arm. Luca didn't even flinch. He grabbed Marco’s wrist, twisting it until the bone snapped with a loud SNAP.
Marco shrieked in agony, dropping the knife.
Luca didn't hesitate. He drove his heavy fist straight into Marco’s face once, twice, three times, until the Bellini heir went completely limp in his grip.
Luca dropped Marco’s unconscious body onto the floor like a pile of dirty laundry.
The room fell dead silent, except for the heavy, ragged sound of Luca’s breathing.
Luca turned slowly toward me.
The lethal, terrifying monster in his eyes melted away the instant his gaze landed on me lying on the floor. He dropped to his knees beside me, his hands hovering over my face, his fingers trembling with intense, desperate concern.
"Emma," Luca choked out, his voice raw. "Are you hurt? Did he touch you?"
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I looked up at the terrifying mafia kingpin who had just torn through an invading army to reach me.
Without thinking, I reached up with my left hand, wrapped my fingers around his torn collar, and pulled his face down to mine, pressing my lips firmly against his.
