Page 19 of The Mafia’s Second Shot (Burning For You Again #3)
ZOEY
T he weight of everything happening settles in my chest as I step into the training room. The space is stark, with nothing but a few mats, punching bags, and a rack of weapons lining one wall. Liam stands in the center, his expression serious as he motions for me to join him.
“You’re here to learn how to stay alive,” he says, tossing me a set of boxing gloves. “Not to fight. If it comes to that, you’ll already be in trouble.”
I catch the gloves, my fingers trembling as I slide them on. “Not the pep talk I was hoping for.”
“This isn’t about hope,” he replies, his voice even. “It’s about survival.”
For the next two hours, Liam walks me through the basics. How to block, how to throw a punch that counts, how to spot an opening and exploit it. It’s brutal and exhausting, every move reminding me of just how out of my depth I am. But as the minutes pass, something shifts.
The fear doesn’t go away, but it changes shape. It becomes fuel, driving me to punch harder, move faster, think sharper. By the time Liam calls for a break, sweat is dripping down my back, and my muscles ache in a way that feels almost satisfying.
“You’ve got guts,” he says, handing me a bottle of water. “That’s more than I can say for some of the guys I’ve trained.”
“Thanks, I guess,” I reply, taking a long sip. My hands are shaking, but for the first time since this nightmare started, I feel like I have a sliver of control.
“Keep that fire,” Liam says, his tone softening slightly. “You’re going to need it.”
Later, as I’m heading back to my room, I hear raised voices coming from Cooper’s office. The door is ajar, and I stop just short of it, my heart pounding as I recognize Marco’s voice.
“She’s a liability,” Marco says, his tone sharp. “You know that as well as I do.”
“She’s not a liability,” Cooper snaps back. “She’s part of this now, whether we like it or not.”
“She’s a distraction,” Marco counters. “You’re thinking with your heart, not your head. And it’s going to get all of us killed.”
There’s a heavy silence, and I can practically feel the tension crackling in the air. When Cooper speaks again, his voice is low but firm. “She’s not just some bystander, Marco. She’s... important. More than you realize.”
Marco sighs, the sound heavy with frustration. “Important or not, if she gets in the way?—”
“She won’t,” Cooper says, cutting him off. “Because I won’t let her.”
His words send a shiver down my spine, equal parts comfort and unease.
I step away from the door, my thoughts racing as I head back to my room.
Cooper’s defense of me is both reassuring and suffocating.
I want to believe he means well, but it’s hard to ignore the control that comes with his protectiveness.
That evening, I find him in the living room, staring into the fire. He doesn’t look up as I sit beside him, the silence between us thick with unspoken words.
“I heard you and Marco earlier,” I say finally.
His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t respond.
“I’m not here to make this harder for you,” I continue. “I’m trying to help.”
“You are helping,” he says, his voice soft but strained. “You don’t need to prove anything, Zoey.”
“It’s not about proving anything,” I reply, my frustration bubbling to the surface. “It’s about trying to understand. Trying to figure out if I can live with this world you’ve dragged me into.”
He looks at me then, his eyes shadowed with guilt. “I didn’t want this for you.”
“I know,” I say, my voice trembling. “And I’m starting to understand why you made the choices you did. But understanding doesn’t mean I forgive you.”
The words hang in the air, heavy and painful, but I can’t take them back. His expression hardens slightly, but I see the flicker of hurt beneath it.
“Fair enough,” he says quietly. “But I’ll keep trying.”
I nod, unable to find the words to respond. Instead, I reach for his hand, the gesture small but significant. He squeezes it gently, his touch grounding me in a way I didn’t know I needed.
The peace doesn’t last long.
The first explosion shakes the estate just past midnight, rattling the windows and sending a jolt of fear through my chest. I bolt upright in bed, my heart racing as shouts echo from the hall.
“Zoey!” Cooper bursts into the room, his expression grim. He’s already dressed, a gun in his hand. “We have to move.”
“What’s happening?” I ask, scrambling out of bed.
“Rossi’s men,” he says, grabbing my arm and pulling me toward the door. “They’re here.”
The chaos is immediate as we step into the hall. Cooper’s men are everywhere, shouting orders, weapons drawn. Another explosion rocks the estate, the lights flickering as smoke starts to seep into the air.
Cooper leads me toward the safe room, his grip on my arm firm but not harsh. “Stay close,” he says, his voice low but commanding. “Don’t stop for anything.”
We’re halfway there when a group of men rounds the corner, guns raised. Cooper shoves me behind him, firing off three quick shots. Two of the men drop, but the third keeps coming, his aim set on Cooper.
Time slows as I act on instinct, grabbing a heavy vase from a nearby table and hurling it at the attacker. It hits him square in the head, and he crumples to the floor, unconscious.
Cooper glances back at me, his expression equal parts shock and admiration. “Nice throw.”
“Thanks,” I manage, my breath coming in short, panicked gasps.
He doesn’t waste time, pulling me along as the sounds of gunfire grow louder. The estate feels like a war zone, and for the first time, I understand just how dangerous Cooper’s world really is.
We reach the safe room, but before Cooper can open the door, another explosion rocks the building, sending both of us to the floor. My ears ring as I push myself up, my vision blurry from the impact.
“Zoey,” Cooper’s voice cuts through the haze, sharp and urgent. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” I say, though my voice is shaky. “I’m okay.”
His relief is short-lived as another wave of attackers descends on us. Cooper raises his gun, his movements swift and precise as he takes them down one by one. I press myself against the wall, my heart pounding as I try to make sense of the chaos.
This is his life—constant danger, constant risk. And now it’s mine, too.
As the last of the attackers falls, Cooper turns to me, his expression fierce. “This isn’t over,” he says. “Stay close. No matter what.”
I nod, my hands trembling as I follow him into the safe room, the sound of gunfire echoing in my ears.