The Devil's Fury
The silence was too heavy.
Elena stood at the center of the living room, every door locked, every curtain drawn. The black sedan hadn't moved, but she could feel the weight of eyes on her. Isabella clutched her hand, wide-eyed, sensing her fear.
A sudden knock shattered the silence.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Mocking.
"Elena Moretti," a man's voice drawled from outside, "open the door. The boss only wants to talk."
Elena's heart pounded. She grabbed the pistol Lucian had forced her to keep hidden under the couch cushions. Her hand trembled, but she forced her voice to steady.
"Get away from this house!"
Laughter answered her. Then the front door rattled violently. Isabella screamed as shadows moved outside the windows. They were surrounding the house.
Elena swallowed hard, pulling Isabella toward the panic room Lucian had shown her, but a crash stopped her—a window shattering, boots hitting the floor.
They were inside.
---
Meanwhile…
Lucian's black car tore through the city streets, engine growling like a beast unleashed. His phone lay on the passenger seat, Elena's frightened voice still echoing in his ears.
"Don't you dare touch them," he snarled to himself, one hand tight on the wheel, the other gripping his pistol.
A pair of motorcycles cut into his path—Marino soldiers. They opened fire. Lucian swerved, bullets shattering glass, and shot through the windshield with perfect aim. Both riders fell, their bikes skidding into fire.
He didn't slow. Didn't blink.
Every second wasted was another second his women were in danger.
---
Back at the safehouse…
Two masked men advanced on Elena. She stood her ground, pistol raised, her body shielding Isabella. Her hands shook, but her eyes were fierce.
"Stay behind me, baby," she whispered.
One man lunged. Elena fired—the shot grazed his shoulder, making him stumble. She screamed, firing again, this time striking his leg. The other cursed and raised his gun—
But a voice stopped them.
"Enough."
A tall man stepped in through the broken window, calm as death itself. His face was handsome, cruel, his dark eyes glittering with malice.
Dante Marino.
Elena froze, her blood running cold.
Dante's lips curved in a predator's smile. "So this is the woman who tamed the Devil." His gaze shifted to Isabella, softening in a way that made Elena's stomach twist. "And the child… innocent, beautiful. Such fragile things. Perfect leverage."
Elena's finger tightened on the trigger. "Don't you dare touch her."
Dante chuckled. "Ah… the lioness bares her claws. I almost understand why he keeps you."
Before he could take another step—
The front door exploded inward.
Lucian stormed in like a hurricane of rage, guns blazing. Two Marinos dropped instantly, blood painting the walls. His eyes locked on Dante—and for the first time, the calm mask Lucian always wore shattered into raw, murderous fury.
"Step away from them," Lucian growled, every word soaked in death.
Dante only smiled wider. "Finally."
The war had come home.