Page 20 of The Mafia’s Second Shot (Burning For You Again #3)

COOPER

T he air smells like smoke and blood, the sounds of chaos echoing through the estate. Explosions have left sections of the house in ruins, and the attackers are moving with precision, their goal clear: to eliminate me and take Zoey.

I crouch behind a wall near the main hall, my Glock held steady in my hands. Marco is beside me, his face a mask of focus.

“They’re more organized this time,” he mutters, reloading his weapon. “This isn’t just Rossi throwing bodies at us. He planned this.”

“Because he knows he’s running out of time,” I reply, peeking around the corner. Three men in tactical gear are moving through the corridor, their guns sweeping for targets.

I signal to Marco. He nods, and we move as one. Two clean shots take out the first two men, and Marco drops the third with a well-placed bullet before the attacker can react.

“We need to push them back toward the perimeter,” I say, my voice calm despite the storm inside me. “If they reach the safe room?—”

“They won’t,” Marco interrupts, his tone firm. “We’ll stop them.”

But his confidence doesn’t quell the dread pooling in my chest. This attack isn’t just about territory or revenge—it’s about Zoey. Rossi wants her because he knows what she means to me, and he won’t stop until he has her.

And that’s what terrifies me the most.

We move through the estate, clearing rooms and securing choke points. My men are holding the line, but the attackers keep coming, their tactics methodical. They know this house, know our defenses, and it’s becoming clear why.

Someone told them. Someone close.

The realization hits me like a punch to the gut, and I clench my jaw as fury surges through me. I’ll deal with the traitor when this is over—if we make it through the night.

The safe room is quiet when I arrive, the heavy steel door sealed shut. Relief washes over me as I knock three times in the agreed signal. A moment later, the door opens, and Zoey is there, her eyes wide with fear but resolute.

“Cooper,” she breathes, pulling me inside. “What’s happening?”

“Rossi’s men,” I say, scanning the room quickly to ensure it’s secure. “They’re pushing harder this time.”

Her hands tremble as she clutches the edge of the table, but there’s fire in her eyes. “What can I do?”

“You stay here,” I say firmly. “You’re safe in this room. I need to?—”

“I’m not hiding while you fight,” she interrupts, her voice trembling but determined. “I can help.”

“Zoey,” I start, but she cuts me off.

“I’ve already been through Liam’s training,” she says, her hands tightening into fists. “I’m not helpless, Cooper. Let me do something.”

Before I can respond, Marco’s voice crackles through my earpiece. “Boss, we’ve got movement near the west wing. They’re trying to breach.”

“Hold them off,” I reply, turning back to Zoey. “Stay here. That’s an order.”

She doesn’t argue, but the defiance in her eyes tells me this isn’t over.

The west wing is chaos when I arrive. My men are pinned down behind overturned furniture, bullets ricocheting off the marble walls. I take cover beside Marco, firing off two shots and hitting one of the attackers.

“We’ve got a problem,” Marco says grimly, nodding toward a figure moving behind the attackers. It’s Dante.

The sight of him sends a surge of rage through me, but I force myself to stay calm. He’s shouting orders to Rossi’s men, his betrayal on full display.

“Take him alive if you can,” I say through gritted teeth. “I want answers.”

Marco nods, and we press forward, clearing the attackers one by one. Dante tries to retreat, but Marco cuts him off, tackling him to the ground. I’m there a second later, my gun trained on his head.

“You picked the wrong side,” I growl.

He sneers up at me, blood dripping from his lip. “You think you’ve won? Rossi’s already got what he came for.”

The words send a chill down my spine. “What the hell does that mean?”

Dante laughs, the sound chilling. “You’ll see.”

I don’t wait for him to elaborate. I knock him out with the butt of my gun and motion for Marco to secure him. Then I run.

The safe room door is ajar when I reach it, the sight stopping me cold. My heart pounds as I push the door open, my worst fear realized.

Zoey is gone.

The trail leads me to the east garden, where Rossi’s men are loading a struggling Zoey into a black SUV. Her arms are bound, but her eyes meet mine, wide with fear and desperation.

“Cooper!” she screams.

The sound of her voice ignites something primal in me. I take out two of Rossi’s men before they can react, my shots precise and deadly. The driver tries to start the car, but Marco’s men arrive, cutting off their escape.

Rossi steps out from behind the SUV, his gun pressed to Zoey’s temple. “Not another step, Cooper,” he says, his voice calm but deadly. “Or she dies.”

My chest tightens as I lower my weapon, my hands clenching into fists. “Let her go, Rossi. This is between you and me.”

He smirks, his grip tightening on Zoey. “Oh, I know. But she’s leverage, and I’m not giving her up that easily.”

Time slows as I weigh my options, my mind racing. I meet Zoey’s eyes, silently willing her to trust me. Then, in one fluid motion, I drop to my knees, grab a knife from my boot, and hurl it at Rossi.

The blade sinks into his shoulder, and he stumbles, releasing Zoey. I’m on him in an instant, disarming him and pinning him to the ground.

“It’s over,” I growl, pressing the barrel of my gun to his head.

He glares up at me, blood dripping from his mouth. “This is just the beginning.”

I pull the trigger.

The fight is over by the time I return to the house with Zoey by my side. The estate is in ruins, but the immediate threat is eliminated. My men are securing the remaining attackers, and Marco is interrogating Dante in the basement.

Zoey sits beside me in the living room, her hands clutching a cup of tea Marco brought her. She’s quiet, her eyes distant, but I can see the weight of the night pressing down on her.

“I can’t do this anymore,” I say finally, my voice raw. “The lies, the violence, the constant threat. I’m done.”

She looks at me, her expression unreadable. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I’ll step back,” I reply. “From all of it. If it means keeping you in my life, I’ll walk away.”

Her lips part, but she doesn’t speak. Instead, she reaches for my hand, her touch warm despite the chill in the air.

“I don’t know if I can trust this,” she whispers. “But I want to.”

It’s not a promise, but it’s a start. And as we sit there, surrounded by the aftermath of the storm, I feel the flicker of hope—the kind worth fighting for.