“Gunman Behind You” — I Save Mafia Boss in Seconds!

The sound of shattering glass echoed from the east wing of the mansion.

"Inside! Now!" Adrian roared, grabbing my arm and shoving me through the heavy oak doors. Marcus followed, dragging Leo by his collar before throwing him to the marble floor of the foyer.

"Lock down the house!" Adrian shouted into his radio. "Protect the girl!"

The estate's automated steel shutters slammed down over the windows, plunging the house into near darkness, illuminated only by the red glow of emergency lighting. Gunfire erupted outside, heavy and relentless.

"They brought a small army," Marcus said, racking the slide of his weapon. "They aren't here to negotiate."

"They're here for her," Leo whined from the floor. "Moretti knows David ordered the hit. If you give her to them, they'll leave!"

Adrian didn't even look at him. He pulled a sleek, silver handgun from a concealed holster at his lower back. He handed it to me.

I stared at it. I had never held a gun in my life. It felt impossibly heavy.

"Keep your finger off the trigger until you're ready to use it," Adrian instructed, his voice a calm anchor in the chaos. "Stay behind me. If we get separated, go to the panic room behind the library. The code is Mia's birthday."

"I don't know her birthday!" I yelled over the sound of another explosion outside.

"August fourth," he said, holding my gaze. "0804. Do not forget it."

We moved through the sprawling mansion. The artwork, the silk rugs, the luxury—it all felt like a stage set waiting to be torn down. I stayed close to Adrian's broad back, my hands trembling around the cold metal of the gun.

We reached the central staircase just as the front doors buckled under a heavy ram.

"Upstairs," Adrian ordered.

We took the steps two at a time. Marcus laid down covering fire as five men in tactical gear poured into the foyer. I kept my head down, my ears ringing from the deafening noise.

At the top of the landing, we ran toward the nursery. Maria was huddled in the corner, shielding a crying Mia with her body.

"Uncle Adrian!" Mia sobbed.

Adrian scooped her up with one arm, his weapon still raised in the other. "I've got you, little bird. It's okay."

He looked at Maria. "Take the back stairwell to the basement vault. Stay there until I come for you."

Maria nodded, her face pale but resolute. She took Mia from him and hurried out the side door.

Adrian turned to me. "We need to funnel them away from the nursery. Follow me."

We ran down the opposite hall toward the master suite. The house was a maze of shadows and flashing red lights. As we burst into his bedroom, I saw the true extent of Adrian Vescari. There were no family photos. No personal touches. Just a large, immaculate space designed for a man who lived expecting a war.

He hit a button under his nightstand, and the heavy mahogany doors locked with a hydraulic hiss.

"That will hold them for three minutes," he said, moving to the closet and pulling out a heavy tactical vest. "We hold the chokepoint."

"Why are you doing this?" I asked, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. "You could have handed me over. You barely know me."

Adrian stopped. He looked at me across the dimly lit room.

"Because a year and a half ago, a woman walked into one of my banks in Queens, crying, begging for a loan extension because her fiancé stole her identity," he said quietly.

My breath hitched. "You own the First Metropolitan Bank?"

"I own the holding company," he corrected. "I reviewed your file. You were paying the debt. Every penny. You worked double shifts. You sold your grandmother's necklace. You didn't run. You stood your ground."

He stepped closer, his dark eyes intense.

"In my world, Elara, loyalty and resilience are the only currencies that matter. David is a coward. You are not. I don't give cowards what they want."

Before I could process the magnitude of his words, the hydraulic doors groaned loudly. The metal began to buckle.

"Get behind the bed," Adrian ordered.

I crouched down, raising the gun with shaking hands.

The doors blew open in a shower of splinters. Three men rushed in. Adrian fired with lethal precision, dropping two instantly. But the third man dived behind a heavy oak dresser.

He didn't shoot at Adrian. He raised his weapon and aimed directly at me.

I didn't have time to think. I squeezed the trigger.

The recoil knocked me backward, my shoulder screaming in pain. The bullet shattered the mirror above the dresser, missing the man completely.

But the distraction was enough. Adrian cleared the distance, disarming the man and throwing him against the wall.

Adrian grabbed the man by the throat. "Who sent you?"

The man spat blood. "You're dead, Vescari. David Aris is at the Neon Rose with Victor. They have the shipping ledgers. It's already over."

Adrian’s face darkened into something truly terrifying.