I didn't wipe it off .
Alessio's blood dried on my mouth while I changed . Black pants . Black shirt . Both too big , both soft , both smelled like him . Like smoke and expensive soap and something darker underneath . He'd bought them for me. Planned for this . Planned for this.
He didn't watched me changing. He stood at the broken door , gun up , guarding a room with three bodies in it . Guarding me.
But I watched him .
The fresh shirt clung to his back , already darkening. Three bullet wounds . He said through and through like it was nothing .
Like his body wasn't failing him one drop at a time .
" Done ," I said . My voice came out steadier than I felt .
He turned. His eyes dragged over me .
From the boots I'd found – also my size – to the shirt I'd rolled at the sleeves, to my mouth . He stopped there .
" You heard me ?" He sounded harsh .
" I heard " I lifted up my chin ." But I didn't agree ."
Something flickered in his eyes . Amusement maybe . Or approval. With him , They looked the same .
" Then let's go ." He grabbed a second gun from the wall and tossed it . I caught it by instinct. It was heavier than my expectation .
Cold . Final.
" That one's yours. Don't loose it ."
" I don't know how to–"
" You will. " He was already moving , past the bodies , through the door . " Stay right behind me . Three steps. No more , No less .
If I go down , you run. Understood ?"
No. I didn't understand anything. Not how he was still walking. Not why my heart was trying to beat out of chest for a man who'd kidnapped me into marriage twelve hours ago .
But I followed . Three steps behind . Gun in both hands like he'd shown me without showing me.
The hallway was empty . Too empty . The Morettis wanted us to move . Wanted us scared .
We made it to the stairs. Down one flight . Two . My legs burned. His were worse , but he didn't stop . Didn't slow .
A shadow moved at the bottom of the stairwell .
Alessio didn't hesitate. He fired. Once . The shadow dropped with a wet sound.
" Four ," He said as if he was counting. Like this was his math.
We stepped over the body . I didn't look .
I looked at the Alessio's back instead. At the way his shirt stuck to him . At the way his left hand hung useless at his side now . Shoulder wound . He was running out of the time .
The garage was cold . Concrete, oil and the smell of old gasoline. A row of black cars gleamed under the fluorescent lights. All the same . All armored , probably. All his .
He hit a button of a key fog . One of his cars beeped . " Get in. The passenger seat ."
I did . The leather was cold through my pants. He slid into the driver's seat and slammed the door . For a second, we just sat there . Breathing. The sound was too loud .
He started the car. The engine roared to life . Then he looked at me . Really looked .
" Give me your hands ."
" What?"
" Give me your hand , principessa . Now ."
I gave it to him . Stupid. But I did .
He took it and pressed my palm flat against his chest . Over his heart . Under the shirt , his skin was on fire . Wet with blood . His heart hammered against my hand like it wanted out .
" Feel that ?" He asked . His voice low . Dangerous. " That's yours now . You said ' mine ' so it's yours now . You break it , you bought it ."
My throat closed up . " Alessio– "
" So you don't get to die ." He let go of my hand but I didn't move it . Couldn't . " And you don't get to let me die . Not until I say ."
He put the car in the drive and slammed his foot down . We peeled out of the garage and into the night .
The city was a blur outside the window . We took corners too fast . He drov with one hand , The other pressed to his side. Every time he shifted gears his jaw locked .
" You need a hospital ," I said .
" I need my father ." He cut a look at me. " And you need to learn to shoot ."
He is across me, popped the glove box . Another gun. Smaller. He dropped it in my lap .
" Safety's on that one . For now ." He nodded to the street ahead. A black SUV was keeping pace with us, two cars back. " Moretti's men . They've been on us since the garage."
My stomach plummented . " There's more ?"
" There's always more ." He took a side street . The SUV followed . "They won't shoot while we're moving . Too public . They'll wait until we stop."
" So we don't stop."
He smiled. Real this time. Sharp and bloody. " Smart wife ."
He drove for twenty minutes. Maybe thirty. The city gave to warehouses. To dark streets with no cameras. To the kind of place bodies disappeared.
He finally stopped the car behind the shipping container. Killed the engine. Silence crashed in.
He turned to me . His face was gray now. Lips pale. He was running on nothing but rage and will .
" Get out ," he said .
I did . He followed, slow. Too slow . He leaned against the car door for half a second before he caught himself.
The SUV rolled the view at the end of the alley . Lights off . It stopped . Four doors opened . Four men got out .
Alessio pushed off the car . He stood between me and them . Always between me and death.
" De Luca," the man in front called . Older . Scared. " We just want to talk."
" Then talk," Alessio said . His gun was up . Steady . But I saw the tremor in his arm . The only tell he'd give them .
" You're looking for your daddy." The man smiled . It didn't reach his eyes . " We can take you to him . No more blood. Just give us the girl."
Alessio laughed. No humour. Just a blade.
" You want my wife?"
" She's not your until you consummate , De Luca . That's the law . Morettis law . " The man's gaze cut to me . To my mouth . To the blood still there . " Unless you already marked her . Did you ? In all that blood ? "
I went cold .
Alessio didn't look at me . Didn't flinch. He just shifted his weight. Putting more of his body infront of mine .
" She's mine ," He said . Quiet. A vow . A war. " Law or no law ."
" Prove it ." The man tossed something. The knife dropped at his feet . " Mark her now . Infront of us . Or we take her and you never get to see your father again ."
Alessio looked down at the knife . Then at me .
He picked up the knife and he flipped it in his hand .
The gun from the glovebox was still in my lap . Heavy. Loaded . Safety on . But my thumb knew where the switch was . He'd make sure of that .
" Shoot me ,wife " He said . Soft . Like it was a love word. " Or shoot them ."
He stepped back . Hands up. Leaving me exposed . Leaving me with his knife in one hand , his gun in other , four men watching .
" Your choice ."
My fingers found the trigger .