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Chapter Twenty-Nine

Viviana

The car ride is silent, the air inside thick with unspoken tension. I sit beside Romeo, my hands clenched tightly in my lap, the weight of what’s about to happen pressing down on me like a boulder.

His jaw set and his dark eyes focused on the road ahead. Even now, he exudes control, but I can see the tightness in his grip on the armrest, the faint tremor of barely contained fury.

Salvatore is using me to get to Romeo, just as Romeo is using me to keep his leverage. I’m not sitting idly by anymore. I’ll fight for my father, for Marco, for the baby growing inside me—whether Romeo likes it or not.

But this time, he agreed to let me come. This time I think he even wanted me to come along.

It’s crazy, and this is probably the one time I really should stay away, but here I am beside him. I reach out a trembling hand and take his fingers in mine.

He looks at me briefly and squeezes my fingers.

When we arrive, the building we drive up to is as cold and imposing as I expected. It’s a sprawling estate surrounded by high walls and armed guards, the neutral territory chosen for this meeting is anything but comforting.

My stomach churns as we’re ushered inside, the sound of the heavy doors closing behind us echoing like a final warning.

Romeo keeps a hand on my lower back, guiding me firmly but gently. It’s not a gesture of affection—it’s a warning, a silent reminder that I need to stay close. I glance up at him, his profile carved in stone, and the look in his eyes sends a shiver down my spine.

He’s ready for blood, and I don’t know if anyone can stop him.

When we enter, the meeting room is large but stifling, the air heavy with tension. Salvatore stands at the far end, a smile tugging at his lips as he watches us approach. Antonio sits slumped in a chair beside him, his face bruised and swollen, his wrists bound.

My breath catches at the sight of him, and I have to fight the urge to run to him.

“Ah, Romeo,” Salvatore says, his tone dripping with mockery. “You’ve brought your lovely fiancée. How romantic. Also, how stupid.”

Romeo doesn’t respond, his gaze locked on Salvatore with an intensity that makes the air feel colder. He steps forward, his body a wall of strength between me and the man who’s caused so much pain.

“I’m not here for your games,” Romeo growls. “Let’s get this over with.”

Salvatore chuckles, a low, condescending sound that grates against my nerves. “So eager,” he says, glancing at me. “So predictable. You’d risk everything for her, wouldn’t you?”

“I’d risk everything to destroy you,” Romeo counters, his voice like ice.

“Where is my father?” I demand. “You turned on him, you piece of shit.”

Salvatore raises an eyebrow, amused. “Funny that you should care about your father all of a sudden, my dear.” He turns toward Romeo, “It doesn’t look like you’re winning this war, Romeo. In fact, I’d say you’re losing.”

He gestures to Antonio, who groans softly but doesn’t lift his head. My heart aches at the sight of him, broken and battered, and I take a step forward before Romeo’s hand shoots out, gripping my arm.

“Don’t,” he says quietly, his voice firm but not harsh.

Salvatore notices the exchange, his grin widening. “Ah, so protective. Isn’t it tiring, Romeo? Keeping her safe, watching her every move? Love makes men weak, you know. It clouds their judgment.”

Romeo’s grip tightens slightly, and I glance up at him, seeing the barely restrained fury in his eyes. “You wouldn’t know a damn thing about love,” he spits, his voice low and venomous.

Salvatore laughs, shaking his head. “You’re right. Love isn’t my game. Survival is. You, my friend, are losing this fight because of her.”

He steps closer, his eyes narrowing as he looks at me. “She’s beautiful, I’ll give you that. But beauty fades, Romeo. When it does, what will you have left? A liability, a burden?”

“Enough,” Romeo growls, stepping in front of me completely, shielding me from Salvatore’s gaze. “Say what you came to say.”

Salvatore smirks, unbothered by Romeo’s anger. “Fine. Here’s the deal. You walk away—leave this city, this territory, everything you’ve built—and I let Antonio go. No strings attached.”

“What about Marco?” Romeo asks coldly.

Salvatore’s smirk deepens. “Marco can leave with you today as well, I suppose. Consider him a token of my generosity—or leverage.”

My stomach drops, and I glance at Romeo, expecting him to explode. He stays silent, his jaw clenching so tightly I can see the strain in his neck. The room feels like it’s on the verge of imploding, the tension between them a ticking time bomb.

“This is the part where you decide, Romeo,” Salvatore says, his tone mocking. “Will you sacrifice everything for love, or will you keep playing the part of the ruthless Mafia king you pretend to be?”

I step forward before I can think, my voice cutting through the tension. “You think love makes him weak?” I say, my voice trembling but steady. “It doesn’t. It makes him stronger.”

Salvatore’s eyes snap to me, his amusement faltering for a moment before he laughs again. “Spoken like someone who doesn’t know what this life does to people. He’ll grow tired of you, girl. When he does, you’ll be nothing but a memory.”

Romeo’s hand moves to my waist, steadying me as his voice cuts through the room. “She’s already more than you’ll ever be, Salvatore. She’s the reason I’ll watch you burn.”

The words send a shiver through me, both comforting and terrifying. Salvatore raises an eyebrow, his smile returning as he steps back.

“Bold words,” he says. “Words won’t save your father. Or Marco.”

The air in the room shifts suddenly, the tension crackling like a live wire. Romeo doesn’t respond to Salvatore’s taunt, but his grip on my waist tightens, his silence more menacing than any threat he could utter. Salvatore, always the predator, senses the change too, and his smirk falters for just a fraction of a second.

It’s enough.

Romeo moves first, a blur of motion as he pulls his gun, firing a shot that hits one of Salvatore’s guards square in the chest. The sound of the gunshot is deafening in the enclosed space, and chaos erupts immediately.

Salvatore’s men scramble for cover, weapons drawn, and I barely have time to duck before another shot rings out, shattering a vase behind me.

“Stay down!” Romeo barks, shoving me toward a corner where the furniture offers some cover. His tone leaves no room for argument, and I drop to the floor, my heart pounding as I press myself against the wall.

The room is a cacophony of gunfire and shouted commands. Romeo moves through it like a storm, methodical and unrelenting. His gun is an extension of him, every shot precise, every motion calculated.

I can’t take my eyes off him, even as fear claws at my chest. He’s ruthless, terrifying, and yet…mesmerizing.

Salvatore shouts something to his men, but it’s lost in the chaos. He ducks behind a pillar, returning fire as Romeo advances. The room is thick with smoke and the acrid scent of gunpowder, and my ears ring from the constant barrage of noise.

I crawl into the next room, and gasp when I spot my father slumped in a chair, blood trickling from a fresh wound on his shoulder.

“Dad!” I scream, crawling toward him despite the danger. My pulse races as I reach him, my hands trembling as I check his pulse. He groans, his eyes fluttering open briefly.

“Viviana,” he rasps, his voice weak. “Get out of here…”

“I’m not leaving you,” I say fiercely, grabbing his arm and trying to hoist him to his feet. He’s heavier than I thought he would be, his body limp, and I struggle to move him even an inch.

Before I can try again, a shadow looms over us. Romeo. His face is splattered with blood—some of it his, most of it not—and his expression is cold, devoid of the man I’ve come to know.

“We can’t afford to be slowed down by him,” Romeo says, his voice cutting through the chaos like a blade. “We need to move.”

“Help me!” I shout, my voice breaking. “He’s my father, Romeo. Please!”

Romeo’s eyes flicker briefly, something unspoken passing between us. Then his jaw hardens, and he shakes his head. “I’m not risking you for him.”

My heart drops, the words hitting me like a physical blow. “You promised,” I whisper, tears streaming down my face. “You said you’d protect him.”

“We can’t take the risk,” Romeo says again, his voice colder this time. “I’ll protect you. That’s all that matters.”

Before I can respond, a movement to my right catches my attention. Salvatore steps into view, blood dripping from a gash on his temple, his gun aimed directly at Romeo.

“No!” I scream, but Romeo is faster. He lunges forward, knocking the weapon aside, and the two men collide in a brutal fight.

It’s vicious, primal—fists flying, bones cracking. Salvatore is strong, wiry, but Romeo is relentless. He slams Salvatore against the wall, his hand around his throat, and with a sickening crunch, he drives a knife into his chest. Salvatore gasps, his eyes wide with shock, before his body goes limp, sliding to the floor in a bloody heap.

The room falls eerily silent, the gunfire fading as Salvatore’s remaining men scatter. My gaze locks onto Romeo, his chest heaving, his face a mask of blood and fury.

I should be horrified—I am—but there’s something else, something darker, stirring inside me. He’s monstrous, ruthless…and I can’t look away.

“Viviana,” Romeo says, his voice dragging me back to the present. “We need to go.”

I shake my head, my focus snapping back to my father. “Not without him.”

Romeo’s jaw tightens, his eyes flicking to Antonio’s limp form. “He’s already dead weight,” he says coldly. “He’ll slow us down.”

“I won’t leave him!” I scream, my voice raw. “You don’t get to decide this, Romeo! You promised!”

He steps closer, grabbing my arm. “If we stay here, you’ll die too. Is that what you want?”

Tears blur my vision, but I wrench my arm free, turning back to my father. “Help me, damn it!”

Romeo doesn’t move. His silence is louder than any argument, and it cuts through me like a knife. I know he won’t help. I know he’s made his decision. But I can’t leave my father—not like this.

Antonio groans again, his eyes barely opening as he looks at me. “Go,” he whispers, his voice fading. “Get out, Viviana. Save yourself.”

I clutch his hand tightly, my tears falling onto his bloodied skin. “I can’t leave you.”

“You have to,” he says, his voice breaking. “I’m sorry…for everything. Just…go.”

The life drains from his eyes as his words trail off, and I feel his hand go limp in mine. “No,” I whisper, shaking him. “No, no, no. Please!”

I hear Romeo behind me, his voice quieter now. “Viviana, we have to move.”

I look up at him, my vision blurred with tears, and the sight of him—calm, resolute, utterly unshaken—fills me with rage. “You let him die,” I spit, my voice shaking with fury. “You could’ve saved him.”

“I saved you,” he says simply, his tone devoid of emotion. “I’d do it again.”

His words hit like a slap, and I scramble to my feet, my hands trembling with anger. “You lied to me,” I force out through my teeth. “You promised.”

Romeo’s expression doesn’t change, but I see something flicker in his eyes—something I don’t have time to name. He reaches for me, but I pull away, my body trembling as the weight of everything crashes down around me.

“Let’s go,” he says quietly, his voice softer now. “It’s over.”

It doesn’t feel over. Not for me.

As I follow him out of the blood-soaked room, leaving my father’s lifeless body behind, I feel hopeless and defeated, not even caring if we make it out of there alive.