Elena's POV:
The wedding was supposed to be over. At least that's what I thought.
After the ceremony, and the kiss that sealed my fate, I had hoped the night would dissolve into an endless chatter where I could disappear into. But nothing in this world is ever that simple.
Adrian's father stands at the head of the reception hall, clinking a fork to his glass of wine. Every other noise dies down immediately. He didn't have to say a word. His demeanor and confidence alone spoke for him.
"The night is not yet over," He declares. "Tonight, as tradition demands, we will all gather to witness the passing of power."
Low murmurs break out immediately.
"My son,.." he glances over at Adrian, "will take over the position of capo of this family."
The room shifts, and whispers break out. Men straighten in their chairs and suddenly, I understand what this is truly about.
The whole purpose of this marriage was never about me. He had already made that clear after all.
My gaze darts to my "husband." The name still feels strange on my tongue. His expression is indifferent, his eyes unreadable. I don't know if it's because he expected it to happen or he just doesn't care.
Around us, guests begin moving out of the room in an orderly procession. I start to rise when Adrian's hand catches mine on the table.
His hold is firm. "You stay here."
I stare up at him, confused. Then I remember. Of course. These types of things aren't for women to be a part of. I say nothing. Only a small nod.
"I'll be back soon," he says, then releases my hand, turns, and follows his father and the others out of the room. Being in there would have made me uncomfortable, but being here in this space alone feels much worse either way.
Unease and uncertainty claw at my skin. I'm suddenly aware of everything and every sound around me.
Adrian's POV:
I stand in the center of the hall, beneath the weight of every stare. But I don't feel it. These things have never bothered me.
Anxiety? Tension? I feel none of them. Those emotions are for those who haven't bled hard enough to earn their spot.
The moment has been mine for as long as I can tell. Long before the vows, and long before Elena's hesitant "I do."
The whole marriage thing was just a way to kickstart the process.
My father's eyes find mine, his eyes filled with resignation. He knows I've claimed this transfer already. He's not handing me power, he's only acknowledging what's already mine.
The oath is laid out before me. Old words, older traditions.
"I swear."
My father nods in satisfaction and places the ring in my hand. I slide it onto my finger, and ripples break out at once. Some men bow their heads. Some in respect, some in fear.
"To the future," I say, raising my glass. My eyes sweep over the room at all their stares, daring anyone to protest. The hall erupts in applause. I know not everyone accepts this change, but I couldn't care less about their acceptance.
All I want from them is obedience, Loyalty. And anyone who crosses that will get whatever's coming to them.
We're all drinking now. Others are chatting away. A certain someone filters my thoughts for a brief moment. She's still out there alone, so I should be leaving here soon.
I lift my drink to my lips when a gunshot cracks through the wall.
Chaos explodes. Glass shattering, men scattering to take cover.
Elena
I move without thinking, reaching for my gun,and pushing my way through the crowd of people, bullets flying around.
Men yell orders around me. I hear my dad's voice in the distance, but everything is muffled out as my senses are only narrowed to one thing.
Her.
I shoot down any obstacle that blocks my path, my jaw tightly glued together.
I burst open the door to the reception room.
My eyes scan the room frantic, and I see her.
She's crouched on the floor frozen, and wide-eyed, terror etched across her face.
I cross the distance in seconds, my hands wrapping around her trembling body as my body shields her instinctively.
Elena's POV:
The world explodes around me. Screams, shouts, the deafening sounds of gunfire. I immediately crouch to the ground, taking cover, then press my hands to my ears to block out the sounds.
Anya's face flashes in my mind, and I see it again. The way the car exploded. Everything comes rushing back.
Fear, terror. My breathing picks up. My hands start shaking no matter how hard I try to control them.
I can taste the smoke and burning metal on my tongue. My chest seizes.
Tears blur my vision, and my throat tightens as I try to draw breaths. My heart feels like it's going to burst.
I can't breathe.
I feel a heavy weight by my side as big arms wrap around me. I try to move, but I can't. A voice comes through, but it's muffled out by my pounding chest.
A hand comes to my chin, forcing me to look up.
It's him. My husband.
His voice cuts through the chaos.
"Elena," his voice is rough. "Look at me. Breathe"
My fingers clutch his suit jacket. I can't stop trembling. My mind screams at me to push him away, but at the same time, my body clings to him like he's my only source of survival.
"Breathe," he repeats.
My eyes find his, and I hold his gaze. Something flickers in those blue eyes. I don't know what it is, but his jaw ticks at the same time. I try taking steady breaths to calm myself down.
"No one is going to hurt you, okay? I won't let that happen, so just breathe. You'll be fine," he reassures me.
Something about his voice calms me down. My breath steadies after a moment, and my vision clears. His arms are still wrapped around me, and it gives me an unexpected sense of protection.
"Don't move until I say so." There is no gentleness in his voice, but the way he holds me close to his chest contrasts it deeply.
The gunfire rages on. I hear men shouting in Italian, yelling out commands, curses.
Glass shatters, chairs scrape, boots thunder against the floor.
Adrian shifts above me, pressing me harder into the ground.
"Keep your head down, Elena," he growls, his voice vibrating through me.
I hear the thuds of heavy boots approaching. Through the corner of my eye, I sight a shadow coming in.
Adrian moves faster than I can think. A loud shot rings out, and press my hands to my ears to block out the sound. At the same time, I'm trying to control my breathing in order to prevent another panic attack.
The man who had been coming toward us falls before he even reaches our table.
The acrid smell of blood and smoke burns in my throat.
A sudden realization hits me. Adrian is not scared. Not even in the slightest. He moves like he owns this battlefield. If anything, he's furious that someone had the audacity to plan an attack on him on his handover.
I'm sure if it was during the wedding, he wouldn't care.
More shadows approach. One second he's next to me, and the next, he's rolling away, and firing shots at the attackers.
Gunshots explode around us. Another burst of fire answers his, and he ducks low, sliding back toward me, his arm wrapping around my shoulders in a fierce grip.
"We move," he snaps. "Now."
I shake my head, my eyes frantic. My body won't cooperate. My legs feel like they're glued to the ground.
His eyes meet mine, unyielding.
"Trust me."
Two words. That's all he gives me. That's all it takes.
I don't know why, but I listen. Maybe because the alternative is death. Or maybe I know that no matter his coldness, in this moment, he's the only one who can keep me safe.
He hauls me to my feet, his grip tight, but not tight enough to hurt. As he pulls me towards the nearest exit, gunshots fire behind us but we don't stop.
And I realize, as my heels drag against the polished floor, that my fate is no longer in my hands.
It's in his.