God Of Vengeance (Kings Of Mafia)
God Of Vengeance: Chapter 39

Dirt shoots into the air as we come to a screeching stop in the lot at the front of the property. The house is medium-sized and looks like it hasn’t been painted in the last decade.

There are a dozen armed men scattered around the property, and they open fire on the SUVS while they try to replace cover against the sides of the house.

I shove the door open and order, “Launch the fucking grenades!”

Tommy sends a grenade flying into the side of the house where a group of men are taking cover, and bodies fly into the air.

Using the door as a shield, I open fire on the fuckers that are shooting from inside the house, and I have to reload the magazine before I’m able to move away from the SUV. With the submachine gun held in position, I run toward the house while shooting every fucking man I lay eyes on.

My vision tunnels on the front door, and I riddle it with bullets before my body slams into the wood. It gives way easily, and I keep going, taking out target after target until I’m out of fucking bullets.

As I drop the submachine gun so I can reach for my Glock, a body plows into me. I grab the knife from my belt, and before my back even hits the floor, I plunge the knife repeatedly into the side of his neck.

Blood spurts over me, and I slam into the floor with a grunt. Shoving the dead fucker off of me, I quickly dart back to my feet. I move the knife to my left hand and rip the Glock from behind my back.

Carlo and Angelo join me, and while they take out the rest of the men, I hear Renzo shout from outside, “I have Stefano!”

“Keep the fucker alive,” my voice thunders through the house as I hurry from room to room, searching for Gabriella.

When I open a door with stairs leading down to a basement, a bullet slams into my bulletproof vest, forcing me a couple of steps backward.

My arm swings into the air, and I pull the trigger as I move forward.

Another bullet zips past my head just as Carlo grabs hold of the back of my vest, yanking me to crouch on the stairs.

“Stay the fuck down while I take care of the asshole,” Carlo mutters, breathless from all the action.

Reluctantly, I stay crouched as Carlo creeps down the stairs, and when he reaches the bottom, a short gunfight ensues before he takes out whoever’s down there.

“Clear,” he shouts. “Gabriella’s not here.”

“Fuck!” I snarl, and turning around, I run back into the hallway.

“Damiano!” Carlo calls, wanting me to wait for him, but I need to replace Gabriella before it’s too late.

Entering a kitchen, I see a back door and head outside. With my gut telling me to head for the trees, I break out into a run.

Don’t let me be wrong. Christ. Please.

My breaths explode over my lips as I run into the woods, and every few steps, I pause to listen for any movement, hoping for confirmation that Filippo’s out here with Gabriella.

Fuck. Am I wrong?

“Move!” I hear a man hiss, and intense relief and anger swirl into a potent mixture in my chest.

Carlo catches up to me as I run in the direction I heard the voice, and I finally catch sight of Filippo as he forces Gabriella to run barefoot through the fucking woods.

“Stop,” she gasps, clutching her side where blood is coating her hand.

Motherfucker!

Letting out a growl, I lift my arms, and training my barrel on the fucker’s shoulder, I pull the trigger.

The bullet hits, and he spins to the side, his hand coming up as he opens fire on me.

“No!” Gabriella screams, and forgetting about her own safety, she fucking throws her body at Filippo and tries to fight him for control of his gun.

“Gabriella!” I shout as I run toward them.

Another shot echoes through the woods, and the blood in my veins chills with fear.

Filippo throws Gabriella off him and trains his gun on her, and Carlo and I open fire as we rush toward them, one bullet after the other slamming into the fucker. His body jerks with each shot before he falls backward, gasping through the shock and pain.

Coming to a stop beside Filippo, I train my barrel on his head and lock eyes with him before I pull the trigger again.

As Gabriella climbs to her feet, my eyes snap to her.

She’s alive.

The amount of relief flooding through my soul paralyzes me for a few seconds, and I can only suck in desperate breaths of air as I stare at her.

Then my eyes drift over her shivering body, and not seeing any gunshot wounds, I dart forward. My arms lock around her, and I squash her to me.

A painful gasp from her has me instantly easing my grip, and I quickly crouch down so I can check the stab wound to her side. I’ve stabbed enough people in my time to know whether the wound is serious or not, and I let out a breath when I see it’s not too serious.

I straighten up again, and there are no words to say what I feel as I see the breaths rushing over her lips. The fight and life shining from her eyes ease the tension in my chest.

She’s alive.

The realization shudders through me again, and I thank all that’s holy that I got to her in time.

“You’re bleeding,” she says as she reaches her bloody hand to my face.

“It’s not mine,” I mutter while I grip hold of her hand. Feeling how fucking cold she is, I’m hit by another wave of anger.

“Damiano!” I hear Dario shout.

Taking a step back from Gabriella, my eyes flick over the lace bra and panties, and I quickly take off the bulletproof vest so I can get the long-sleeved shirt off my body.

Once I have the shirt covering my wife, Carlo hands me his coat, and I quickly wrap it around her.

I hate that Carlo saw her half naked, but I’m too relieved to feel any anger.

When I bend to pick her up, she shakes her head. “No. I can walk.”

“The fuck you can,” I snarl.

“Damiano,” she snaps at me.

Our eyes lock, and she lifts her chin. “I will walk out of here. I need your men to see I haven’t been broken.”

Holy fucking Christ.

As much as I hate the idea of her walking barefoot, I relent because this is important to her.

She wants to show them she’s their queen, and that no matter what’s thrown her way, she will survive. Nothing can break her.

Standing in the middle of the fucking woods on an icy winter’s day with blood soaking into the ground, I fall in love with Gabriella all over again.

Needing to touch her, I wrap my arm around her shoulders before we walk back through the trees.

When Dario and Angelo come into sight, I drop my arm from around her and take hold of her left hand where her blood is drying and link our fingers.

“Is everyone okay?” Dario asks as we reach him.

“Yes,” I reply.

When we break through the trees, all the men of the Cosa Nostra, one by one, look in our direction.

Gabriella tightens her grip on my hand, and I hear her suck in a trembling breath before she pushes through her pain and walks toward the nearest SUV.

Once I have her safely inside the vehicle, I wrap my fingers around the back of her neck and press my forehead to hers. “I’m so fucking proud of you, mia regina.”

She nods, her skin way too fucking pale.

Letting go of her, I turn to face my men.

“Clean up the shit and go home to your families,” I order.

“Yes, boss,” the chorus sounds up.

Glancing at the other four heads, I nod my thanks to them before locking eyes with Angelo. “Keep my mother with you until I come to get her.”

“Take your time,” he replies. “Vitorria will love the company.”

Only then do I lock eyes with Stefano, where he’s being restrained by Emilio and Vito.

“Take the fucker to the warehouse. I’ll deal with him later.”

They nod before shoving him into an SUV.

Looking at Tommy, I order, “Take a team of men and go to Sicily. Bring me Cettina Ferraro and the di Bella family alive. Make them think they’re coming for the wedding.”

I want to break the news to them in person that they’re going to die. I want to savor their fear before they’re killed.

With all the orders out of the way, I climb into the backseat and pull Gabriella into my arms.

She’s shaking like a leaf in a fucking shitstorm, and I struggle not to hold her too tight.

Carlo slides behind the steering wheel, and Renzo takes the passenger seat.

“I’ve let the clinic know we’re coming,” he informs me while tossing a first-aid bag at me.

I quickly open the bag, and taking out antiseptic wipes, I move the clothes out of the way so I can get to the stab wound on Gabriella’s side.

Once it’s as clean as it can be in the backseat of the fucking SUV, I grab some gauze and pressing it firmly against the wound, I order, “Hold it in place.”

She does as I instruct while I dig out an adhesive dressing, and when I have it stuck to her skin, I take a few seconds to clean the puncture marks from where they stapled the fucking paper to her stomach.

“I’m fine,” she mutters. “I can hold out until we get to the clinic.”

I only nod as I take hold of Gabriella’s chin, nudging her face up so she’ll look at me.

Our eyes lock, and I stare at my woman with so much fucking pride pouring into my chest.

In this moment, where I get to touch her, I realize Gabriella is the most dangerous person I’ve ever met because she has the power to control me.

“Ti amo, mia regina,” I whisper, so fucking thankful I get to say the words to her again.

“Ti amo, mio re.”

I can see she’s struggling to keep it together and it takes a swing at my heart.

“It’s okay,” I murmur. “You don’t have to be strong anymore. I’m here.”

She shakes her head and shoots a glance at Renzo and Carlo, and once a-fucking-gain, she somehow shoves all her trauma away and holds her head high, refusing to break in front of them.