L'Angelo della Morte | A Mafia Romance

♛29 ⥄ ❝ Vendetta ❞

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You can run but you can't hide — this is warfare.

~ Katie Garfield

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I threw myself towards Romeo. My trembling hands pressed down around the knife and his blood colored my hands.

"No, no, no," I choked out – eyes darting between his face and the knife. My hands cupped his cheeks, supporting his head and leaving bloody handprints on his pale face. "Remember what you told me, okay?"

The tears were free falling – my gut wringing itself.

"Find a man who will lay down his life for you," I repeated back to him frantically, shaking my head and when I spoke again, my voice broke, "Don't be him."

"Calm down, bella," he hushed – his voice strained. He half sat against the wall, half laid on the cold floor. Romeo laid his hand over my own. Just the act of lifting his arm appeared painful. "I – I'm no doctor, but I know the ins and outs of the human body... mostly the ins." He let out a pained breath. "I'll be alright."

I shook my head. "You're gonna bleed out," I sobbed.

"Loving... the confidence," he huffed. Romeo's head tipped to the side and I found myself needing to hold his head up. "I failed, Carly."

"No. No," I pushed, "I was wrong to doubt you, Rome –"

"I didn't do it," he whispered through slow breaths. "I was meant to –" He groaned, his muscles rippling under his skin. By the time he spoke again, he was panting, "I was meant to take out the guards. I didn't take out enough."

"What?" My eyes widened.

"I couldn't leave you alone with him."

Romeo opened his mouth to continue. As if on cue, a blaring alarm went off. I gasped and my hands flew to cover my ears from the deafening shrill.

Romeo smirked. The alarm was too loud to hear his voice, but his eyes said it all: they're here.

I whirled around. The door slammed against the wall and Livio marched towards us. He grabbed ahold of my arm and yanked me to my feet.

The shrill grew louder by the second, and Livio's words were inaudible under the relentless noise.

I yanked my arm away, stumbling back to the ground just in time to miss the object that plunged through the air. It skimmed past Livio's head, leaving a long, thin gash across his right cheekbone.

He staggered a step back, his fingertips brushing the bleeding cut. Then his eyes darted past me to the man behind me: Dante.

Dante was hunched on his knees, steadying himself with a hand on the wall, right next to the gaping hole where the knife had been.

Livio stormed past me, and over the torment of the alarm, Dante's was the only voice I heard.

"Carly, run!"

And I did. I pushed off the floor and bolted to the open front door. I took a sharp left before I had a chance to take in my surroundings and dashed down the small hallway towards the only door in that direction.

The door barged open – my speed never slowing. It should have. I slipped in a puddle and landed hard on my rear.

My palms slapped into the liquid and I froze. I sat in a smear of thick, dark red blood – still warm to the touch. It soaked through the fabric of my dress, sticking to the backs of my thighs.