Dante was shielded by the bulletproof car door as he fired his next shot. The bullet tore through the throat of the man who’d gotten out of the car after Raffaele.
Raffaele was trying to reach the safety of his own car, firing bullet after bullet in our direction but none of them could burst through our protective windows.
When Raffaele dove for the passenger door of his car, Dante stepped out from behind the door which had been shielding him. My heart pounded wildly in my chest as he squared his shoulders and aimed calmly. In quick succession Dante pulled the trigger, hitting Raffaele first in his left, then in his right kneecap. Raffaele dropped to the ground, face twisted in agony. The man behind the steering wheel of the car hit the gas, not even bothering to close his passenger door, as he tried to escape and save his own life. Three other cars, Dante’s reinforcement, were already heading our way at dizzying speed, but Dante didn’t let the enemy car get away. He aimed his gun at the tires and hit them one after the other, causing the man to lose control of the car, which started spinning and finally collided with the abandoned warehouse. Airbags shot open, filling the car and hiding the driver momentarily from view.
I released a harsh breath, now that silence fell over the area, and kept my eyes straight ahead. If I looked back, toward where Antonio was slowly bleeding to death, I’d lose it. He shouldn’t have come to me, shouldn’t have asked me to kill Dante. He should have known better. Now there was nothing I could do for him, except hope that Dante wouldn’t prolong his agony for too long. Tears blurred my vision and my knuckles were stark white and hurting from my grip on the steering wheel. From the corner of my eye, I could make out Raffaele. His legs useless, he was dragging himself forward with his arms, leaving behind a streak of blood on the dusty asphalt.
The cars with Dante’s reinforcement came to a halt next to me. Enzo shot me a short glance before he jogged toward Dante. I didn’t know what they were saying, but Enzo walked toward Raffaele, grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and yanked him upright. Of course Raffaele’s legs gave away again, and Enzo started dragging him behind despite Raffaele’s cries of pain. With the help of Taft, they loaded Raffaele into the car beside mine.
Dante appeared at my window. I couldn’t even move to open it. My fingers, my body, my entire being seemed paralyzed. After a moment, Dante opened the door. He squatted beside me. It was an unusual enough gesture for him that my eyes settled on his face. “Valentina,” Dante said carefully. “Are you capable to drive yourself home or do you want one of my men to do it?”
I want you. I need you, now more than ever. “No, I’m okay. I can drive.”
Dante scrutinized me. His hair was still perfectly combed back, his suit as impeccable as ever. Nothing that indicated he’d just killed one man and wounded three others. “I’ll send Taft with you,” he said firmly. “It’ll be a while before I’ll be home.” He didn’t need to say more. I didn’t want to hear more. I nodded simply. Dante stood and waved Taft over, who slipped into the passenger seat without a word. He slanted me a quick look. I probably looked as if I was close to losing it. And that was exactly how I was feeling.
Dante hesitated before he shut my door and took a few steps back from the car. As if in trance, I pressed my foot down on the gas. I didn’t look back, couldn’t. I’d said my goodbye to Antonio this afternoon. No, actually I’d said goodbye to him a long time ago.
Taft kept looking my way. I was driving too slow, but he didn’t comment. My throat was tight and I was feeling sick, not the sickness I’d experienced as part of my pregnancy. This was something that seemed to take hold of my entire body, but I fought it. I needed to keep up appearances. Dante was a proud and strong man, and I was his wife. I wouldn’t throw up in front of one of his men. I wasn’t sure how long it took to reach the manor, but if felt like eternity. When I finally parked the car in the garage, I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. I opened my door and stepped out. As I headed for the door leading into the house, my legs buckled. Strong hands grabbed me under the arms and stopped me from hitting the floor hard. Driven by pure determination, I forced my legs to stop shaking. “Are you alright?” Taft asked. “Should I call the Boss?”