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Francesca’s attention is fixed on me. Everything in her is begging me to save her. If I get us all out of this unscathed, I’m never going to forget the memory of that look. The desperation, trust, and longing. She sees me as her saviour and protector and I’ll die before I let her down.

“Darlin’, you’re going to be just fine,” I soothe her. “I’m going to kill him, okay? Shut your eyes if you need.”

She nods quickly, but leaves her wild eyes open and her attacker sneers over her shoulder at me. I just need him to move slightly out of line with her so I can take the shot. I won’t risk hitting her, but the longer we remain in this stand-off, the more likely she will be hurt.

“This got out of control, didn’t it?” I say in a voice that is as calm as it is deadly and which masks the dread churning in my stomach. “You didn’t picture it going like this. Were you meant to just kidnap her? Or is this a suicide mission?” As I speak, Elio gets Francesca’s attention from where he stands off to the side a few metres from me. I see him subtly signalling to her to gently pull away from the man so that I have room for the shot.

“We’re leaving now. Don’t shoot unless you want her dead,” the man announces and he begins to step backward in the direction of the car behind him, just as Francesca pulls forward as hard as she can, ducking to her right towards Elio. That is all I need, just a foot of separation.

My trigger finger contracts and I let the first shot go, hitting him in the face. His body falls as I step forward and pull the trigger again, hitting him again in the head. He hits the ground, yanking Francesca down with him, his hand only letting go of her arm when it bounces off the hardened earth.

Her horrified screams pierce through my focus, but I am not done. It isn’t enough to take him down. The cold fury in me isn’t satisfied with that.

Francesca rolls away from the now faceless body and I stride forwards with purpose, unloading a third shot into what is left of his head. Then swiftly covering the remaining ground between us, I stand over him and empty my clip into his chest.

The remaining gunmen scramble back into their cars, and the screech of tyres fills the now quiet air as they floor it out of there leaving us alone with the body of their comrade. Tyre marks on the road and ground sprinkled with shell casings the only obvious sign they were ever there.

Shoving my empty handgun back into my shoulder holster, I stare down in disgust at the man who dared to lay a hand on my girl. An unrecognisable mess of flesh, blood, and fabric. I appear emotionless on the outside, but inside my fury is only barely tempered by the knowledge that she is now safe.

An eerie quiet has descended on the street. We need to get out of here quickly, but with no sirens able to be detected, we can afford a couple of minutes to catch our breath. All I can hear are soft cries from Francesca, arms wrapped around her shins as she sits rocking side to side a metre or so from the corpse.

Coated in blood, she still looks like a work of art. Right now she is more like a monotone Jackson Pollock, but still utter perfection. There is something about her wearing the blood of our enemies that arouses me in a way it definitely shouldn’t.

My knees hit the floor in front of her like I’m dropping before an altar to pray, to atone. I open my arms and she scrambles onto my lap, her arms encircling my neck.

“You’re okay, little darling.” I drop my chin and murmur against her forehead. “I’ve got you.”

I hold her shaking body and look up to see no one has moved. They’re all looking to me for instructions.

“Matty, get your guys in to get rid of him,” I command. Wordlessly, he obeys. He slides straight into capo mode, pulling out his phone to call his crew.

“Bluey?” I ask, looking around.

“Here, boss,” he answers weakly. Sweat coats his forehead with a film of dirt and blood and he grits his teeth against the pain of his gunshot wound.

Massimo is still crouching at his side, doing his best to stop the bleeding. I instruct him to get Bluey back to our house. No organs have been hit so we can handle his medical needs without involving the hospital. The fewer questions, the better.

I bark a few more orders and then look over at Elio. He too is waiting to be told what to do.

“Brother?” My voice is firm but affectionate. He will be hurting and embarrassed for many reasons, so I give him something to do to feel less useless. “Can you call Doc and get her to meet us back at home?”

Elio digs in his pocket for his phone. He looks emotionless, but I know my brother, and inside he will be torturing himself, feeling emasculated. He won’t look me in the eye. He can’t look at Francesca.

Readjusting her weight in my lap, and tucking an arm under her knees, I push to my feet. Francesca tightens her hold on me and presses her face, wet with tears, into my neck. I walk her over to the only one of our cars that is still drivable and go to sit her down on the bonnet, but she won’t let go of my neck.

“Hey hey hey, I’m not going anywhere. I just need to set you down for a second so I can organise getting us out of here,” I tell her softly and she reluctantly lets me sit her down.

She starts shivering almost immediately. Her beautiful emerald dress is now splattered with drying blood and is doing nothing to keep her warm.

Removing my suit jacket, I thread her slender arms into it and let it envelop her. I love how huge it looks on her delicate frame. I love it even more that I catch her pressing her nose into the collar to inhale my scent.

“You okay?” I ask her gently. Her eyes shift to the mess on the road that used to be a living and breathing human being. “Don’t look at that, darlin’,” I say firmly and she obeys, looking up at me instead.

She reaches out for me again and I step forward so she can slide her hands around my waist and pull me close so I’m standing between her legs. Her cheek presses into my chest and she holds me tight like she is afraid to let me go. She must be able to hear my thundering heart, still surging from all the adrenalin. It’s going to be impossible to sleep tonight. I’m fucking wired.

I run my hands gently over her silky hair and press a kiss to her forehead. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for this woman. I’ll kill a hundred more men like I did tonight. Hell, I’d kill motherfuckers just to see her happy, let alone to save her life.

“I will never let anything happen to you,” I can’t help but whisper to her. “I promise you. You’re safe with me,la mia cara cucciolotta.”My darling puppy.