Chapter 7 - THE BLEEDING EDGE
A stray bullet sparked against the shipping container next to Elara’s head, showering her with rust and sparks. Before she could react, a heavy hand grabbed her tactical vest, yanking her hard behind a forklift.
Dominic’s chest pressed against hers, his breathing steady despite the firefight raging around them.
"You okay?" he growled over the noise.
"Fine," she breathed, her heart hammering against her ribs.
A Moretti enforcer rounded the corner of the forklift, leveling a shotgun at Elara. Dominic moved faster than humanly possible. He stepped in front of her, absorbing a grazing shot to his left shoulder as he simultaneously raised his weapon and fired a single round between the enforcer's eyes.
Dominic grunted, staggering back against the machinery.
"Dominic!" Elara reached for him, her hands coming back slick with blood.
"It's a scratch," he hissed, though his jaw was locked in pain. "Finish it."
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The firefight was dwindling. Vincent and the rest of the Salvatore crew had decimated the rival syndicate. Lorenzo Moretti was on his knees in the center of the room, surrounded by bodies, staring down the barrel of Vincent’s rifle.
Elara ripped a field dressing from her tactical belt and shoved it hard against Dominic’s shoulder. He sucked in a sharp breath but didn't pull away. He just looked down at her, the adrenaline and danger stripping away his usual cold facade.
