Chapter 7 - THE BULLET AND THE BLADE
The gunshot cracked like thunder in the enclosed stone chamber.
Adeline didn't even have time to scream. But Enzo had moved before Victor’s finger had fully depressed the trigger. He lunged across the corner of the table, his body an impenetrable shield of muscle and bone, slamming Adeline down behind the heavy oak balustrade.
The bullet grazed Enzo’s shoulder, tearing through his bespoke suit jacket and opening a searing gash along his deltoid. Blood instantly bloomed across the fine fabric.
“Enzo!” Adeline cried, her nurse’s instincts instantly kicking in as she grabbed his arm, her fingers pressing into the pressure point above the wound. “You’re hit!”
“I’m fine,” Enzo ground out through gritted teeth, his eyes entirely consumed by a red, primal fury. “Stay down.”
The council chamber had turned into a war zone. Moretti’s men had already tackled Victor Ashford to the ground, disarming him and pinning his face to the cold stone floor. Lucian had Julian Ashford by the throat, lifting the whimpering doctor off his feet.
Camila was cowering beneath the heavy timber table, clutching her silk gown, shrieking in hysterics as the reality of her family’s total collapse rained down upon her.
Don Moretti stood up, his face set like carved granite. “Victor Ashford, by the laws of the Founding Families, you have drawn blood during a Council of Peace. You have stolen from the common blood trust. You have committed dishonor that cannot be washed away with gold.” Moretti looked at Enzo, who was slowly standing up, one arm soaked in crimson, holding Adeline securely against his side. “Enzo Marquetti. The Ashford family’s fate belongs to you.”
Enzo walked over to where Victor Ashford was pinned to the floor. The old patriarch looked up, his silver hair disheveled, blood dripping from his split lip, his eyes wide with the sudden, pathetic terror of a fallen king.
“Enzo... please,” Victor gasped. “Our families have known each other for fifty years. Think of the alliance!”
“The alliance died the moment your daughter put a whip to the woman who saved my life,” Enzo said, his voice dropping into a register of deathly finality. “Lucian. Hand Victor and his son over to the Federal Bureau of Investigation along with every financial ledger in that box. Let them rot in ADX Florence for the rest of their natural lives. Stripped of every asset. Every mansion. Every cent.”
“No! Not federal prison! Kill me instead!” Victor screamed, knowing that losing his wealth and status was a fate far worse than a quick bullet.
Enzo didn't even look at him. His cold gaze drifted to Camila, who was trembling violently beneath the table.
“And her?” Lucian asked, nodding toward the sobbing heiress.
“Leave her with nothing,” Enzo said coldly. “Revoke her trust funds. Evict her from every Ashford property. Let her see what it feels like to live in a freezing tenement in Pilsen, scrubbing floors to afford a loaf of bread. If she ever steps foot in Chicago again, she won't be arrested. She will simply disappear.”
Camila wailed, collapsing into a heap on the floor as the guards dragged her father and brother away in chains.
Adeline stood beside Enzo, her hand still pressed against his bleeding shoulder. The adrenaline that had carried her through the confrontation was beginning to fade, leaving her trembling. She looked up at the man who had torn down an entire empire in an evening just to avenge her dignity.
“You’re losing blood,” she said softly, her clinical focus returning. “We need to get you back. You need stitches.”
May you like
Enzo looked down at her, the lethal darkness in his eyes melting away into an overwhelming tenderness. He reached up with his uninjured hand, gently cupping her jaw, brushing a thumb across her cheek.
“Then patch me up, Nurse Croft,” he whispered, a faint, genuine smile touching his lips for the first time in years. “I trust no one else with my life.”
