The First Shot
The sound of glass shattering split the quiet night.
Mia barely had time to react before Lorenzo was on her, pushing her down behind the couch as a second, louder crash echoed through the penthouse. Gunfire.
Her breath came in sharp gasps, adrenaline surging through her veins as she tried to process what was happening. One second, she had been standing near the bedroom door, about to confront Lorenzo about what she had overheard. The nextâshe was caught in the middle of something she barely understood.
Lorenzo's body was pressed against hers, his hand gripping the back of her head, keeping her low. His breath was hot against her ear.
"Stay down," he growled.
Mia's fingers dug into his shirt. "What the hell is happening?"
Another shot rang out, this one splintering the wooden dining table across the room.
Lorenzo shifted just enough to grab the gun holstered at his waist. "They're here."
The words sent a fresh wave of terror through her. They.
The people he had warned her about. The people who didn't want her here.
Mia's mind raced. Had they followed them from the event? Had she put him in even more danger just by being with him?
Before she could say anything else, Lorenzo moved, his sharp, lethal focus locked onto the shadows near the shattered window.
"Marco, get her out of here!" Lorenzo barked.
One of his men, a tall, broad-shouldered man with a scar running down his cheek, appeared beside them. "Come on," he said, reaching for Mia's arm.
But she yanked back. "I'm not leaving youâ"
Lorenzo turned to her, his expression like stone. "Mia. Go."
Before she could argue, another round of gunfire exploded through the room.
Lorenzo shoved her behind Marco just as he lifted his gun and fired.
The air smelled like smoke and metal. The walls, once pristine, were riddled with bullet holes. Someone shouted in Italian, the words lost beneath the chaos.
Mia stumbled back as Marco pulled her toward the hallway. Her heart pounded, her mind screaming at her to fightâto stayâbut she knew she would only be a distraction if she did.
She didn't want to be his weakness.
So she ran.
Mia's pulse was still racing when Marco led her into the back staircase of the building.
The gunfire was distant now, muffled by the thick walls.
"We have to keep moving," Marco said, his voice calm but urgent.
Mia clenched her fists. "We can't just leave himâ"
"He's not alone," Marco cut in. "Lorenzo knows what he's doing."
Mia swallowed hard. She knew that. But knowing it didn't make it any easier to leave him behind.
The stairwell was eerily quiet as they descended, every step feeling like it might lead to something worse.
And thenâ
The door at the bottom of the stairs slammed open.
Two men, dressed in dark clothing, stepped inside.
Mia barely had time to react before Marco shoved her behind him, his gun raised.
"Merda," he muttered.
The men lifted their weapons.
And then, everything happened at once.