Chapter 5 - THE BLOODRIGHT
“It’s a lie.”
The words tore out of my throat, harsh and desperate. I scrambled back, pressing my shoulders against the base of the crib, staring at the yellowed birth certificate on the floor as if it were a venomous snake. “My mother hated the mafia. She hid me from them! Why would she have a child with the underboss?”
Dante knelt down slowly, his massive frame level with mine. He didn't touch me, but his presence was a heavy, grounding force in the spinning room.
“Look at the dates, Mara,” he said, his voice entirely devoid of the rage from moments ago, replaced by a cold, calculating clarity. “You were born twenty-six years ago. Lorenzo was not the underboss then. My father was the Don, and Lorenzo was his younger brother—reckless, ambitious, and deeply in debt to rival families.”
Dante picked up the birth certificate. “Sofia’s family, the Valentis, were civilian wealth. Clean money. Shipping, real estate. When Clara, the eldest Valenti daughter, got pregnant by Lorenzo, her father was furious. He threatened to cut Lorenzo off completely.”
The pieces began clicking together in my mind, forming a horrifying picture. “So my mother ran away.”
“She didn't just run,” Dante corrected gently. “She took the bloodright. The Valenti fortune was tied to a trust, payable only to the firstborn child of the eldest daughter upon her twenty-fifth birthday.”
I stared at him, the math doing itself in my head. I turned twenty-five last year.
“Sofia knew,” Dante continued, his eyes darkening. “She found out you were alive. She realized that the millions Lorenzo had suddenly acquired to buy his way into the underboss position were fraudulent. He didn't have the Valenti money. You did. Sofia was going to expose him to the Commission.”
“And he killed her for it,” I whispered, tears finally spilling over my lashes. “He killed her to protect a fortune that belongs to a daughter he never met.”
“And now he is trying to kill my son,” Dante said, standing up, the lethal energy returning to his body. “Because as long as Leo is alive, Lorenzo cannot claim complete control of the Russo syndicate when he makes his move against me.”
I looked at the crib. Leo was waking up, his big, serious eyes fixing on me immediately. He reached his little arms out, making that soft, breathy sound that shattered my heart. I stood up and scooped him into my arms, holding him tight against my chest. He felt like the only real thing in a world built on lies.
“We have to go,” I said, my voice hardening. The fear was gone, burned away by a sudden, fierce protective instinct. Lorenzo was my blood, but he was a monster. This baby was innocent.
“I’m taking you to a secure location,” Dante said, pulling a heavy black handgun from a hidden holster beneath his jacket and checking the chamber. “I have a dozen men I trust with my life waiting in the garage. We move now.”
He threw open the nursery door.
We didn't even make it to the top of the stairs.
The sound of shattered glass echoed from the ground floor, followed immediately by the deafening crack of automatic gunfire.
Dante shoved me violently backward into the nursery, slamming the heavy oak door and throwing the deadbolt.
“Get in the closet!” he roared.
“Dante, what’s happening?!” I panicked, clutching Leo, who had begun to wail in terror.
“Lorenzo isn't waiting!” Dante yelled over the sound of boots pounding on the marble stairs. “He knows I found out about the night nanny. He’s making his move for the house!”
Gunfire erupted in the hallway, dangerously close. Dante’s loyal men were fighting, but the sheer volume of bullets tearing through the drywall meant they were severely outnumbered.
Dante shoved a heavy mahogany dresser in front of the door. He turned to me, his eyes burning with a desperate, feral light. He grabbed my face in both of his massive hands.
“Listen to me,” he commanded, his voice vibrating through my bones. “Behind the bookshelf is a panic chute. It drops directly into the old servant tunnels that lead out to the woods. I’m going to hold them off. You take my son, and you run.”
“No!” I cried, grabbing his wrists. “They’ll kill you!”
“I am already dead if he dies!” Dante yelled, pointing at Leo. “He is my heart, Mara! Protect my heart!”
The nursery door splintered as heavy bullets tore through the wood. Dante didn't flinch. He let go of my face, spun around, and kicked the bookshelf hard enough to break the latch. It swung open, revealing a dark, narrow slide.
“Go!” he ordered.
I didn't have a choice. I clutched Leo to my chest, wrapped my body around him to protect his head, and threw myself into the dark chute just as the nursery door blew completely off its hinges.
The last thing I saw before the darkness swallowed us was Dante, standing tall in the center of the room, raising his weapon toward the doorway, his black dragon tattoo stark against the smoke.
We slid down the smooth metal chute in pitch blackness, the sounds of gunfire fading into a muffled thumping above us. We hit a padded landing at the bottom, tumbling onto the dirt floor of a damp, cold tunnel.
I scrambled to my feet, my knees bruised, my breath coming in ragged gasps. Leo was crying, a high, thin wail of pure fear.
“Shh, baby, I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” I sobbed, bouncing him as I blindly felt my way along the stone wall of the tunnel.
I ran. I didn't know how long, but my lungs burned, and the air grew colder and smelled of wet earth and pine. Finally, my hands hit a heavy wooden door. I pushed it open, stumbling out into the pouring rain.
We were in the thick woods at the edge of the estate.
I looked back. The massive mansion was lit up in the distance, flashes of muzzle fire strobing through the second-story windows.
Suddenly, the heavy wooden door of the tunnel burst open behind me.
I spun around, a scream trapped in my throat, ready to run.
A massive figure stumbled out of the darkness and collapsed face-first into the mud.
It was Dante.
“Dante!” I dropped to my knees beside him in the rain, shielding Leo from the downpour.
Dante rolled over onto his back, groaning. His pristine white shirt was soaked in blood, a massive, dark stain spreading rapidly across his ribs. He had taken a bullet. Maybe more than one.
His eyes fluttered, glassy and unfocused, but when he saw me holding Leo, a weak, bloody smile touched his lips.
“You… you waited,” he coughed, blood spilling over his chin.
“I told you I wasn't going anywhere without you,” I cried, pressing my free hand hard against his bleeding side.
Dante’s hand weakly came up, his fingers brushing against the silver swallow necklace at my throat.
“Keep him safe, Mara,” Dante whispered, his eyes rolling back. “Keep my son safe.”
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His hand fell into the mud. His chest stopped moving.
I was entirely alone in the woods with a mafia prince, a bleeding king, and a monster hunting us all.
