CHAPTER 8 ARE YOU READY

Knock.

I stiffened.

They were here.

The knock came again. Harder.

Then silence.

They were waiting. Listening.

I gripped my Uzi tighter, my finger steady on the trigger. Antonio was right beside me, covering the right while I took the left. I could feel the weight of his stare, the tension in the air between us.

"Get ready," I muttered.

Antonio didn't answer. Instead, he exhaled, low and controlled. I could feel the way his body tensed—like a predator right before the kill.

Then—

BANG!

The door burst open.

They rushed in fast, guns raised, but I was faster.

One. I shot the first man in the head before he could take another step. Blood sprayed as his body dropped.

Two. The second man aimed at me—I ducked, rolling to the side, and fired. My bullet ripped through his throat. He gurgled, falling to his knees before collapsing.

Antonio moved just as quickly. His Uzi roared as he sprayed down two more men, his shots sharp, precise. One fell instantly, the other staggered—Antonio stepped forward and put another bullet in his head.

Another came at me from the side.

I didn't use my gun.

Instead, I grabbed the knife from my thigh holster and slashed upward. The blade cut through flesh. He screamed, stumbling back, and I didn't give him a chance to recover.

I flipped the knife in my grip and drove it into his chest.

His eyes widened in shock before the life drained from them. I yanked the knife out and let his body drop.

When I turned, Antonio was staring.

His Uzi was lowered, his chest rising and falling steadily. But his eyes—his eyes—were locked on me like I was the most dangerous thing in the room.

Like I was something he wanted to fight… or something he wanted to keep.

The air between us crackled.

I could feel his excitement, his pulse running just as wild as mine. His lips parted slightly, like he wanted to say something, but nothing came out.

I smirked, wiping the blood off my knife. "What? Didn't think I could handle myself?"

Antonio's jaw clenched. His eyes dragged over me, slow, heated. "You're insane."

I stepped closer, tilting my head. "And yet, you like it."

His breath hitched for just a second.

But before anything else could happen—

BOOM!

The sound of gunfire outside.

Antonio snapped his head toward the door. Then—another sound. Footsteps. Fast. Heavy.

"Boss!"

Luca.

He stormed in first, gun raised, followed by Antonio's men. They scanned the room, assessing the bodies.

Luca's eyes flickered between me and Antonio before he smirked. "Looks like you two had fun."

Antonio exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "Took you long enough."

Luca shrugged. "Seemed like you had it under control." Then he turned to me, nodding. "Not bad, Bella."

Antonio shot him a look that immediately shut him up.

I smirked, sliding my knife back into its sheath.

 But one thing was clear—Antonio wasn't looking at me the same way anymore.

Antonio's men were good at cleaning up. I watched them move fast, efficient—like they'd done this a hundred times before. A few of them kept stealing glances at me, probably wondering who the hell I was. I didn't care what they thought.

Antonio took a deep drag from his cigarette, his dark eyes fixed on me. "I think you got something to explain."

Luca stood beside him, arms crossed, clearly waiting for an answer too.

I tilted my head, pretending to think. "Do I?"

I knew they wanted answers, but it wasn't that simple. Not for them. They were mafia, and I was something else entirely. They couldn't protect me, and I still had unfinished business. My silence only made them more irritated.

Antonio exhaled sharply, shifting his attention to Luca. "You still think you did a good job?"

Luca sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "You know how I work, boss. If I can't find anything, it means the other party is just that damn good."

His gaze flicked toward me, and I smirked. "Guess my coding still works," I said, chuckling.

I walked over to the bookshelf and reached for a small elephant figurine. With a simple twist, a hidden door clicked open, revealing a secret room stacked with weapons and clothes—everything I needed to disappear if I had to.

I could feel them standing behind me, their presence heavy with curiosity.

"Wow," Luca murmured, stepping inside.

Somehow, it made me proud. This was my collection—every weapon carefully chosen, every piece holding a story. My own little arsenal, hidden in plain sight.

Antonio and Luca scanned the room, their eyes flicking over the neatly arranged weapons and gear.

"You don't have our goods here, do you?" Antonio asked, his tone sharp, testing.

"No," I replied simply.

His jaw tightened, but he didn't push further. He was piecing things together, but I wasn't going to make it easy for him.

Then, like an idiot, I suddenly remembered why I had even opened the door in the first place.

Shit. My shoulder.

I glanced at Luca. Out of the two, he was the more reasonable one, less likely to overthink my request. Antonio was too volatile right now, and I didn't need him turning this into an interrogation.

"Luca, can you help me with something?" I asked, my voice even. I wasn't used to asking for help, but I also wasn't stupid.

He raised an eyebrow, curious but not questioning. "Of course, Bella."

I grabbed a bottle of rum from the counter and handed it to him. "I've got a wound—infected, I think. Can you clean it up and pour this on it?" Then I smirked. "Consider it payback for saving your boss."

Antonio scoffed, but Luca chuckled. "Fair enough."

Without hesitation, I unbuttoned my shirt just enough to expose my back.

Luca let out a low whistle. "Shit, that looks bad. You probably need a jab for it."

I nodded. "I've got some in my cupboard."

Antonio moved before Luca could, yanking the cupboard open with little patience. I turned just in time to see his expression shift. His brows furrowed, then lifted slightly. It was rare to catch Antonio truly surprised.