Chapter 3 - Shadows in the Safehouse"RUN!" Sal yelled.
Gunfire erupted instantly, tearing through the smoke in blind sprays. Sal grabbed my hand, pulling me through the choking white haze with terrifying precision. He knew every step, every angle. He fired his weapon blindly behind us, driving back the men who tried to charge through the fog.
We reached the silver sedan. Sal unlocked it with a key fob, threw me into the passenger seat, and leaped into the driver’s side just as bullets began peppering the reinforced steel bodywork.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
The heavy bulletproof glass cracked into spiderweb patterns under the barrage, but it held.
Sal smashed his foot on the accelerator. The high-powered engine roared to life, tires screaming against the wet asphalt as we burst through the alleyway, hitting one of the blocking SUVs and spinning it sideways before tearing off into the night.
I collapsed into the leather seat, hyperventilating. Blood was rushing in my ears.
"Are you hit?" Sal demanded, his hands gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. He glanced over at me, his eyes wild with terror. "Elena! Answer me, are you hit?!"
"I... I don't think so," I stammered, checking my arms and legs with trembling hands. "I'm okay. I'm okay... Sal, your arm!"
Blood was soaking through the dark fabric of his tuxedo jacket near his left shoulder. A bullet had grazed him.
"It's just a scratch," he growled, ripping off his silk bowtie with his free hand and pressing the fabric against the wound. "We have ninety minutes before Vincenzo's men trace this vehicle's satellite signal. I have to get us to the compound."
For the next hour, neither of us spoke. The highway was a blur of rain and streetlights. The silence between us was heavy with everything that had been said—and unsaid—before the shooting started.
Because I was standing in a room with two hundred people, and all I could think about was you.
His words echoed in my mind. For two years, I had watched him from across a glass-walled office. I had seen him make cold, calculated business decisions worth hundreds of millions. I had watched socialites and heiresses try and fail to catch his attention. And I had hidden my own pathetic crush, convincing myself I was just a cog in his massive machine.
Now, I was sitting in a bullet-riddled car driven by the most dangerous man in New York, wearing penguin pajamas soaked in rain and blood.
Around 2:00 AM, the sedan pulled up to a massive iron gate hidden deep within a dense pine forest in Upstate New York. The gates opened automatically after scanning Sal's retinas, and we wound up a long driveway to a sprawling, stone mansion surrounded by high walls and visible security cameras.
Sal parked in the underground garage. The moment the heavy blast doors sealed shut behind us, he let out a ragged sigh and dropped his head onto the steering wheel.
"We're safe," he said quietly. "For tonight."
He opened his door and walked around to help me out. As my feet hit the cold concrete, my legs gave out from sheer exhaustion and adrenaline crash.
Sal caught me before I hit the ground.
He lifted me effortlessly into his arms, carrying me out of the garage and up a grand spiral staircase into a warm, fire-lit master suite. He set me down gently on a plush velvet sofa near the fireplace.
"I'll get you clothes, water, and first aid," he said softly, turning to leave.
"Sal," I caught his hand.
He froze, looking down at our joined fingers.
"Why me?" I asked, tears finally spilling over my lashes. "You could have had anyone. Why put yourself in the crosshairs of an entire mob syndicate just to come to my apartment?"
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Sal turned back to me, kneeling on the floor in front of the sofa so he was looking up into my eyes.
"Because for two years, Elena, you were the only real thing in my fake life," he confessed, his voice dangerously soft. "In a world built on lies, betrayal, and bloodshed... your laugh was the only thing that kept me sane. I built an empire to take revenge for my father, but when I looked at the crown... I realized I didn't want to sit on the throne alone. I wanted you."
