Gunfire echoed through the mansion like thunder, shaking the walls. Isabella pressed her hands over her belly as if her trembling fingers could shield the tiny life inside. Every shout, every heavy boot thudding across the marble floor sent another jolt of fear coursing through her veins.
Downstairs, chaos erupted—men shouting in Italian, the sharp bark of gunshots, the crash of furniture overturning.
He told me not to move… Isabella gripped the doorknob, torn. The thought of staying put while Leonardo faced danger clawed at her insides. Despite everything he'd done to her, despite her plans to escape, something inside her screamed that she couldn't just sit here and do nothing.
The decision was made for her when a masked gunman appeared in the hallway.
He moved with deadly intent, a black rifle slung across his chest. Isabella froze, panic stealing her breath. He spotted her instantly and raised his weapon.
"Leonardo!" she screamed.
Before she could blink, a blur of black and steel came charging down the hall. Leonardo tackled the man to the ground in a violent crash, the gun skidding across the floor.
"Stay behind me!" Leonardo barked, his voice thunderous with fury as he pinned the attacker.
Isabella stumbled back, her knees weak. She watched in horrified awe as Leonardo fought like a beast unleashed, fists flying with brutal precision until the man lay unconscious.
But before Leonardo could stand, another masked figure appeared behind him, gun aimed directly at his back.
"Leonardo!" Isabella cried again, her voice raw with terror.
The mafia king spun just as the gun went off. The deafening crack made Isabella's ears ring. Leonardo staggered, a dark crimson bloom spreading across his white shirt.
"No!" Isabella's scream tore through the chaos as she rushed to his side. She dropped to her knees, grabbing his face with trembling hands. "Stay with me! Please, don't you dare die on me!"
Leonardo winced but forced a cocky smirk, even as blood trickled from his wound. "Relax, bella," he rasped, his voice still laced with that maddening confidence. "It'll take more than a bullet to kill me."
Two of his men stormed in, shooting down the attacker before dragging him away. The room fell silent except for Isabella's shaky breaths and Leonardo's ragged ones.
"You're bleeding," she whispered, her hands frantic as she pressed against his wound.
He caught her wrist gently, his eyes locking onto hers with raw intensity. "You're safe," he murmured, as if that mattered more than his own life.
Isabella's chest tightened painfully. "Why would you do that?" she demanded, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Why would you throw yourself in front of a gun for me?"
Leonardo's lips curved into the faintest, pained smile. "Because you're carrying my heir… and because…" He winced as his voice faltered, his vulnerability slicing through the usual iron façade. "…I couldn't live with myself if I lost either of you."
The weight of his words crashed into her like a tidal wave. For weeks, she'd told herself he was a monster—a ruthless mafia king who only knew power and control. But here he was, bleeding for her, his calloused hand brushing away her tears as if they were precious to him.
"Leo…" she whispered, her voice trembling.
He groaned softly, gripping her hand tighter. "Promise me something," he said, his dark eyes glinting with fierce determination.
"What?"
"If anything happens to me… you run. You protect our child, no matter what." His voice broke for the first time since she met him. "You don't look back."
A sob escaped her lips. "Don't you dare talk like that," she cried, shaking her head violently. "You're not leaving me. I won't let you."
Leonardo's gaze softened, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. "You'd fight death itself for me, wouldn't you, bella?"
"Yes," she whispered fiercely. "Even death wouldn't take you from me."
Something primal and unspoken passed between them in that moment—a vow forged not from words but from blood, fear, and a connection neither of them could deny anymore.
"Boss, we need to move!" one of Leonardo's men shouted from the doorway.
Leonardo gritted his teeth, his body trembling as he tried to rise. Isabella slid under his arm, supporting his weight with surprising strength.
"I've got you," she murmured, determination blazing in her tear-stained face.
Leo glanced down at her, admiration flickering in his stormy eyes. "My fierce little fighter," he whispered hoarsely.
Together, they made their way to the mansion's secure wing, every step leaving a trail of blood on the pristine marble floor. Guards swarmed around them, securing the area, but Leonardo never let go of Isabella's hand—not once.
Once inside the safe room, Isabella helped him onto a leather couch, her trembling fingers tearing open his blood-soaked shirt. The sight of the bullet wound made her stomach lurch.
"I need a doctor," she said frantically.
Leonardo's hand caught hers again, his grip weak but insistent. "No hospitals," he rasped. "Too risky. My men will handle it."
She met his gaze, fire and desperation clashing inside her. "You're insane," she hissed, tears slipping down her face. "But you're my insane mafia king, and I'm not losing you."
For the first time, Leonardo didn't argue. His head rested back, eyes closing as exhaustion dragged him down. But before he passed out completely, he whispered one last thing that shattered Isabella's world all over again:
"No more running, Isabella… you're mine. Forever."
Isabella sat there, clutching his hand, her tears falling freely. For weeks she'd fought him, fought herself, fought the impossible bond between them.
But as she listened to his uneven breaths, feeling the weight of his life in her hands, she finally admitted the truth she could no longer deny:
She belonged to Leonardo DeLuca just as much as he belonged to her… and there was no escaping fate.