The world exploded into noise.
Gunfire ripped through the walls, splintering wood and shattering glass. The safe house Luca's so-called fortress became a battlefield in seconds. Men shouted orders. Boots pounded the floor. Smoke burned my lungs.
Luca pushed me behind him instinctively, his body a shield. "Move," he ordered. "Now."
We ran.
The hallway shook as another blast rocked the house. Somewhere to our left, a man screamed cut short by a gunshot. My heart slammed so hard I thought it might tear out of my chest.
"This way!" Marcus yelled from ahead.
Luca dragged me into a narrow stairwell leading down. The lights flickered violently, plunging us into near darkness.
"They breached from the north," Marcus shouted. "At least six men. Possibly more."
"Rossis?" Luca asked.
"No," Marcus replied grimly. "Romano loyalists. They didn't scatter when Victor died."
My stomach twisted. They're here because of me.
We reached the basement concrete walls, steel doors, weapons lockers lining one side. Luca shoved a pistol into Marcus's hand, then turned to me.
"Stay here," he said sharply.
I grabbed his arm. "You said no more hiding."
"This isn't the time".
"Teach me," I interrupted, my voice shaking but firm. "You promised."
Another explosion thundered above us. Dust rained from the ceiling.
Luca stared at me for one breathless moment.
Then he swore under his breath.
"Fine," he said, pulling open a locker. He grabbed a smaller gun and pressed it into my palm. "Safety's off. Finger stays here unless you intend to shoot."
The weight of the weapon made my arms tremble.
"I don't know how," I whispered.
"You aim," Luca said, meeting my eyes. "And you don't hesitate."
Footsteps pounded down the stairs.
Marcus fired first.
The sound was deafening.
I screamed and ducked as bullets tore into the concrete walls. Luca returned fire with brutal precision, dropping one man before he even reached the bottom step.
Another rushed forward.
I saw him clearly his face twisted with rage, gun raised.
He looked at me.
And smiled.
Something inside me snapped.
I raised the gun.
Pulled the trigger.
The recoil nearly knocked me backward. The man collapsed, blood spreading across his chest.
For a heartbeat, everything went silent.
I stared at him, my ears ringing, my hands numb.
"I" My voice broke. "I shot him."
Luca grabbed my face, forcing me to look at him. "You're alive."
Tears burned my eyes. "I killed someone."
"You survived," he repeated fiercely. "That's the only thing that matters."
More men poured in.
There was no time to think.
Gunfire echoed nonstop. Marcus shouted something I couldn't hear. Luca moved like a force of nature efficient, deadly, unstoppable.
And I stayed on my feet.
I reloaded when Luca told me to. I fired when he nodded. I moved when he grabbed my wrist and dragged me out of danger.
Fear was still there but it no longer owned me.
Then I heard it.
A voice.
"Elena."
I froze.
That voice didn't belong here.
It came from behind the steel door at the back of the basement the panic room.
"Elena," the voice said again. Soft. Familiar.
My blood ran cold.
"No," I whispered.
Luca turned sharply. "What is it?"
"That voice…" I shook my head. "It sounds like my father."
Luca's expression darkened instantly. "That's impossible."
"They said they'd protect him," I whispered. "They promised."
The voice came again. Louder now.
"Please, Elena. Open the door."
My chest tightened painfully. I took a step forward.
Luca grabbed my arm. "Stop."
"He's alive," I said desperately. "They have him."
"They're using your weakness," Luca said harshly. "Don't fall for it."
The voice sobbed. "They're going to kill me."
My vision blurred.
"I can't leave him," I cried.
Another explosion rocked the basement.
Marcus shouted, "Sir! We're losing ground!"
The voice screamed my name.
I looked at Luca.
This time, he didn't try to soften his words.
"If you open that door," he said quietly, "you will die."
I stared at the steel handle.
Then at the gun in my hand.
Then at Luca bloodied, fighting a war he never meant for me to inherit.
And I realized something terrifying.
This was my first real choice.
Not as a daughter.
Not as a victim.
But as Luca De Santis's wife.
I tightened my grip on the gun.
And reached for the door.