Chapter 6 - THE BLOOD TRAIL
Damiano groaned, clutching his shoulder as dark blood quickly soaked through his white shirt.
"Damiano!" I sobbed, keeping Nico pressed against the wall as I crawled toward him. I pressed my hands hard over the wound. The blood was hot and pulsing.
"I'm fine," he gritted out, his teeth bared in pain. "Find the gun."
Above us, the footsteps were multiplying. They were coming down the stairs.
I scrambled in the dirt, my fingers brushing against cold metal. I grabbed the heavy handgun. I had never held a gun in my life, but as I heard Enzo’s boots hitting the wooden stairs, a primal, violent instinct took over. I aimed it at the stairwell, my hands shaking violently.
"Stay back!" I screamed.
Enzo paused halfway down the stairs, peering into the gloom. When he saw me holding the gun, he chuckled. "Sienna. Back from the dead. You don't have the stomach to pull that trigger, sweetheart."
"Watch me," I growled, my finger tightening on the trigger.
Before I could fire, a massive explosion rocked the foundation of the house. The ground shook violently, throwing me backward. Dust and debris rained down from the ceiling.
Through the ringing in my ears, I heard shouting outside. Gunfire erupted, but it wasn't aimed at us.
"Elena’s men," Damiano gasped, pulling himself up against the concrete wall. "She sent backup."
Enzo swore violently in Italian. "This isn't over, Damiano!" he yelled, his boots thundering back up the stairs.
We waited in the dark, suffocating basement while a war raged in the pines above us. After twenty agonizing minutes, the gunfire ceased. The cellar door creaked open, and a man with a heavy accent called out, "Boss? It’s Luca. Elena sent us. The perimeter is clear, but Enzo got away."
Damiano let out a ragged breath and nodded to me. I helped him stand, his heavy arm draped over my shoulder. We climbed the stairs into a house that was completely shredded by bullets.
Luca, Damiano’s trusted capo, took one look at his boss's shoulder and started barking orders for a med kit.
They sat Damiano on the only intact kitchen chair. I tore open the med kit, my waitress hands moving with surprising steadiness.
"You need a hospital," I said, cleaning the entry wound. "The bullet went through, but you're losing too much blood."
"No hospitals," Damiano grunted, his eyes fixed on me. "Stitch it."
I looked at him, terrified. "I'm not a doctor!"
"You're a mother who kept my son safe for six years," he said, his voice dropping to a rough, intimate whisper. "You are the strongest woman I know. Do it."
I threaded the needle, my hands shaking, and began to stitch the torn flesh of the man I had spent six years running from. Damiano didn't flinch. He didn't look away from my face. Every pull of the thread felt like an invisible suture binding us back together.
Nico sat on the counter, watching with wide eyes. "Does it hurt?" he asked softly.
Damiano managed a weak smile. "Not as much as losing you did, piccolo."
My breath hitched. I tied off the stitch and stepped back, wiping the blood from my hands.
Suddenly, Damiano’s phone buzzed on the counter. The caller ID read: Dot's Diner.
I snatched it up immediately. "Dot?"
"Sienna," a man’s voice purred on the other end. It was Enzo.
My stomach plummeted. "Where is Dot? What did you do to her?"
"The old lady is fine. For now," Enzo said smoothly. "But she was very helpful. She told me about the little apartment you rent above the hardware store. She told me all about Nico's favorite toys."
"If you touch her—"
"I don't want the waitress, Sienna. I want the throne," Enzo interrupted. "Tell my brother he has one hour to meet me at the old shipyard on Pier 4. He comes alone, and he signs over the family holdings. If he doesn't, I burn Dot's Diner to the ground with the old lady inside it."
The phone clicked dead.
I looked at Damiano. His face was pale from blood loss, but his eyes were pure, lethal fire.
"I'm going," Damiano said, struggling to stand.
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"You can barely walk!" I argued. "He wants to kill you, Damiano!"
"He wants the empire," Damiano corrected. He looked at me, a profound sadness in his eyes. "He can have it. I don't want it anymore, Sienna. I never wanted it. I just wanted you."
