Luna's vision blurred as she stumbled, the pain in her leg sharp and throbbing. Blood soaked through the fabric of her pants, warm and sticky, but Antonio wouldn't let her stop.
He had her in a headlock, his arm crushing her against him as they tore down a dark alley near the docks. His breath came fast and harsh against her ear as he threw glances behind them every few seconds.
Sirens wailed in the distance. The staccato crack of gunfire still echoed off the metal shipping containers behind them. She had no idea what had gone wrong. One moment, she'd been standing at the edge of the docks, Antonio handling some deal she wasn't supposed to be involved in. The next, cops were swarming in, guns drawn, shouting orders.
The burning in her leg told her she'd been hit somewhere in the crossfire. She didn't know where exactly. Every step made her feel weaker, dizzier.
"Keep up!" Antonio snarled, dragging her forward when she faltered.
They rounded a corner into another alley. Antonio slowed, his gun raised, eyes darting to every possible point of attack. He was muttering something under his breath, curses in rapid-fire Italian.
She should've asked questions, should've pushed back when he'd dragged her to the car earlier. Maybe then she wouldn't be here now, bleeding out in a filthy alley with her husband holding her hostage.
Antonio came to an abrupt stop, his hand tightening on her arm. She blinked hard, trying to clear the fog in her head.
"Figlio di puttana," Antonio hissed through clenched teeth, leveling his gun at the figure blocking their escape.
Her heart skipped when she recognized Nico. He stood at the mouth of the alley, backlit by the flickering streetlights, gun already raised and trained on Antonio. But with the way Antonio held her, it felt like the barrel was pointed straight at her.
"Why?" Antonio asked, his voice laced with restrained fury. "Have I not been good to you?"
Nico didn't respond. His gun remained steady, his finger just resting on the trigger. The only sound was the faint click as he disabled the safety, his expression blank.
Antonio gave a short, amused laugh. "You're not going to shoot me, Nico. You don't have the balls."
Luna's pulse pounded in her ears, drowning out the sound of her own shallow breathing. She glanced at Nico, but all she saw was coldness in his eyes. Not panic. Not fear.
Her husband yanked her closer. "You pull that trigger, and you kill her too." He turned his gun, pressing it against her ribs instead.
Luna sucked in a breath. Cold fear spread through her.
Still, Nico didn't flinch. He didn't even look at her. It was as though she wasn't there, as though she was just another piece of the game he was playing. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the tears that spilled freely down her cheeks.
Antonio's grip on her loosened slightly as he grew more confident, his voice gaining strength. "You think I don't know? That I haven't seen the way you look at her? I knew. I always knew--"
A single gunshot cracked through the alley like a thunderclap.
Antonio's grip slackened instantly, his body jerking as the bullet tore through him. Luna barely registered the pain in her leg as her palms hit the ground, her head spinning from the sudden fall.
Antonio hit the ground beside her with a strangled curse, clutching his shoulder. Blood seeped through his fingers, staining his suit in a matter of seconds.
Nico was already closing the distance, his gun still trained on Antonio as if nothing had changed.
Antonio tried to lift his gun again, but Nico's foot slammed down on his wrist, forcing the weapon from his hand with a sickening crunch.
"Stronzo traditore," Antonio spat through gritted teeth. "You think--"
Nico crouched, pressing the barrel of his gun against Antonio's forehead, cutting off his words instantly.
"I think you talk too much," Nico said quietly.
Then he fired.
Blood sprayed across the pavement, across her, warm and sticky. Seconds stretched into an eternity. The only sounds were her own labored breathing and the distant wail of sirens. She blinked, dazed, trying to stay conscious, her vision tunneling.
Nico turned to Luna. For a terrible second, she thought he might just walk away, leave her bleeding in the alley. But then he moved toward her, crouching by her side, eyes flicking to the dark stain spreading over her pants.
"You okay?"
What an idiot. Luna almost wanted to laugh, but it came out as a shaky exhale. The world spun violently, cold washing over her in waves.
She felt Nico's hands on her, surprisingly careful as he pulled her against his chest. "Stay awake, stellina. You hear me? Stay the fuck awake."
That was when she glimpsed it. A flicker of something in his eyes that looked an awful lot like fear.
She tried to hold onto it, but the dizziness dragged her into darkness. The last thing she felt was Nico's arms lifting her.
***
Luna stirred, blinking groggily at the dark world beyond the car window. Her head felt heavy. Her leg was wrapped in gauze, throbbing faintly.
Nico sat next to her, one hand on the wheel, the other draped casually over his thigh. His face was set in stone, every muscle tense, his jaw clenched tight enough to crack. The headlights illuminated only fragments of the empty road ahead, casting fleeting shadows across his features.
"What happened?" Luna rasped.
Nico didn't answer. His jaw tightened further, and his eyes stayed locked on the road. He drove like he was chasing something--or running from it.
She swallowed, dread knotting in her stomach. "My husband?"
"Dead," Nico said.
Right. The flash of the gun. The crack of the shot. The hot spray of blood on her skin. Luna rubbed her hands over her cheeks, but they felt clean.
Antonio was gone. The man who had owned her life for so long, gone forever. She should have felt something--relief, maybe, or freedom--but all she felt was dread.
There was no sense of triumph in Nico's expression.
"You planned this," she said quietly.
"Yes."
Her pulse quickened. "Where are you taking me?"
He gave her a brief, sidelong glance. "Somewhere safe."
Safe? The word felt meaningless. Safe from who? The cops? Antonio's remaining men? Or safe from him too?
The silence stretched so long it became suffocating, tension tightening in her chest. Finally, Nico broke it with words that hit harder than she expected.
