Born in Blood. Sworn in Blood.
I enter alive and leave dead.
Why couldn’t I stop looking at him as if I could ever be with him? It was wrong. Our parents would never allow it. Mainly because of the major scandal it would cause. I wasn’t sure how long I checked him out, but Mauro seemed lost in his own thoughts. He was watching me in a way as if I was his nightmare come true, and I didn’t understand it. We’d been so close before he went off to Sicily and we were still close while he was there, but things had become tense, almost awkward at times. I wasn’t brave enough to ask him why. Maybe it was something that happened with all people in my life. They eventually lost interest in me.MauroI stared out into the night. Fuck, I wasn’t scared of anything, but now I was acting like a goddamn pussy. Too scared of sleep. Too scared of my mind’s torturous fantasies that only got more creative with every passing day in close proximity to Stella. We’d spent three whole days together so far. I was torn between wanting our time alone together to be over as quickly as possible—to prevent a misfortune from happening—and wanting to prolong it.
Stella was my drug of choice. She was oblivious to my dirty thoughts, to all the ways I’d already fucked her in my fantasies. Today she was still seventeen, tomorrow she’d finally be of age. Finally? Another barrier crumbling, another hit for my dwindling self-control.
Fuck. Father had given me one job: keep an eye on Stella, protect her physical well-being and her honor. The latter probably more than the former. After all, a girl in our circles was judged by her fucking pureness. That was the reason for the disgusting bloody sheets tradition. He still wanted to marry her off to the highest bidder one day. If I acted on my fantasies, that could ruin his plans.
My eyes registered a moving shadow on the premises. At first, I was sure my mind was playing a trick on me. We had an advanced alarm system for the yard and house, which went off as soon as anything bigger than a cat tried to get over the fence. It was necessary because our territory bordered on enemy land, and the Outfit had been attacking frequently since the truce had been broken.
Another shadow, then another. What the fuck?
Glass shattered somewhere in the house. No alarm. Nothing.
I whirled around, grabbed my Berettas from the nightstand, and stormed down the hallway toward Stella’s room, shoving one gun into the waistband of my sweatpants. I barreled inside and staggered toward her bed, grasping her arm. I jerked her upward, and she awakened with a gasp, her eyes wide with fear. Her lips opened to cry out, but my hand clamped down on her mouth. Finally, her eyes settled on my face and her brows pulled together in confusion.
“Attackers are in the house. Come on, I need to get you to the panic room.”
“The alarm?” she asked. I pulled her out of bed when she didn’t move.
“Stella, follow me!” After another moment of hesitation, she finally acted on my orders. Pulling my second gun out, I handed it to Stella. She shook her head. “I don’t know how to shoot.”
“Point at an attacker and pull the fucking trigger, that’s it.”
She took the gun, and I led us into the hallway. “Stay behind me at all times and don’t shoot me in the back by accident. And for fuck’s sake, do what I say, no questions asked.”
She nodded mutely, obviously stunned by my dominant demeanor.
We hurried toward the staircase. Hushed male voices were coming from the living room.
“Quick,” I rasped. I grabbed her wrist because she looked frozen. I hurried down the staircase, dragging Stella after me.
The entrance to the panic room was in Father’s office on the ground floor, the last door on the right, branching off from the lobby. An attacker appeared in the doorway to the living room when we reached the last step. I pulled the trigger and sent a bullet through his left eye. He tumbled to the ground with a resounding thud. I dragged Stella past the body, hearing steps of several more intruders in the living room. I ran faster even though Stella panted desperately behind me. With a hard shove, I pushed the door open, ran inside and entered a code into the keypad beside one of the bookshelves. The floor parted beside the desk, revealing a narrow staircase and an underground panic room.
“Go in!” I shoved Stella in the direction of the opening. She clambered down a few steps.
“Don’t leave me alone.” Her eyes were wide and fearful.
“Down!” I snarled.
She disappeared, and I quickly climbed down as well. Only my head peeked out from the hole in the floor when another attacker glimpsed into the room. Like the first attacker, I didn’t recognize his face. I shot, but he jerked back and the bullet collided with the wall behind him, sending plaster flying everywhere. I pressed the close button, and the floor slid shut within seconds, then I punched a code into the pad that would guarantee no one got down here who didn’t know the correct numbers. A flicker of a face peered down at me a moment before the door clicked shut. Was it the Bratva or the Outfit? Both were giving us trouble.