Lucas and the others shoved Rose down and bound her wrists to the arm of a chair. She fought, muscles straining, but four men held her down.
Angelo leaned close and kissed her aggressively, biting her lower lip hard enough to draw blood.
"You should be grateful," he whispered. "If I had more time, I would enjoy you properly."
Rose jerked away violently.
Angelo straightened his suit. "Watch her. I am going to fetch the DeLuca idiots. They will be the perfect scapegoats."
He walked out, leaving Rose with the men who betrayed her.
Lucas crouched before her, spitting on her cheek. "Arrogant bitch. Ordering us around just because you have a famous last name."
Rose glared murderously. "You will regret this."
Lucas twisted her breast viciously, making her gasp. "If Mr. Angelo had time, we would enjoy you together."
He brought his crotch near her face to taunt. "I liked Safrene, you know. Sweet girl. Called me big brother. Until you twisted her values with your sinful ways."
Rose smiled despite the pain. "The girl just preferred women. Looks like you were not man enough huh! Too small?"
Lucas slapped her hard. "Shut up."
"Alright, I just wanted to check if Angelo was threatening you with something to betray me, but it seems you are just plain old scums", Rose smiled even through the pain.
"What are you talking about?.."
A gun clicked.
The brunette on the couch, silent until now, stood slowly.
She pulled a silenced pistol from beneath the cushions.
One shot per traitor.
Soft thuds.
Wet collapses.
In less than a second, every traitor except Lucas lay on the floor.
Lucas reached for his gun.
A bullet knocked it away.
Rose smiled. "Thanks for saving him for me, Nat."
Natasha cut Rose loose.
Rose rose with the grace of a panther.
She grabbed Lucas by the jaw. "You said you wanted to enjoy me?"
Her hand dropped to his crotch.
She squeezed.
Lucas screamed, snot and tears pouring.
"End this pathetic life Nat" Rose said quietly."Do not worry, I will not hurt your family.. too much.."
The last thing Lucas saw was Rose's devilish smile before Natasha put a bullet between his eyes.
.....
Angelo walked into Booth 6 with the DeLuca representatives wearing a satisfied smile. He poured whiskey with a steady hand, played the charming host, and prepared the quiet obituary he had written for Rose Belladonna. Yet beneath the surface of his confidence, an old instinct began to stir.
Something in the atmosphere felt slightly off. The lights along the ceiling hummed with a faint irregularity.
A draft brushed against his neck that should not have been there.
The sharp intuition he had built over years of surviving street executions crawled up his spine.
One of the DeLuca men chuckled and raised his glass.
"Why so jumpy Mr.A? A bright future for both of us."
Angelo flashed a grin, but his eyes were already drifting toward the hallway.
A quiet warning whispered across the back of his mind.
She knows. Rose was too calm for someone about to die. But why?
He excused himself with a casual shrug.
"Let me take a leak before we start talking numbers. Try not to drink all my good whiskey while I am gone."
He stepped out of the booth, taking only a few unhurried strides.
A heartbeat later, the world behind him lit up with murderous light.
The explosion tore through Booth 6, swallowing the velvet curtains, the polished wood, and the DeLuca men who had been laughing moments earlier.
The blast threw Angelo forward and filled his lungs with smoke. He hit the floor, coughing violently, his ears ringing.
He staggered to his feet and turned.
Through the rolling smoke and swirling embers, he saw her.
Rose Belladonna stepped out of the burning wreckage as if she were carved from the fire itself. Her black dress glowed against the flames. Her hair whipped around her face in wild, furious strands.
Soot marked her cheeks, and a thin line of blood ran down from her brow. Her eyes burned with an intensity that made the fire behind her seem gentle.
Angelo's confidence cracked.
He pivoted away and sprinted, gun raised, firing in frantic arcs as he ran. The shots were not meant to kill her, only to slow the white haired demon striding through the smoke.
He reached a decorative panel on the wall, pulled the concealed wire behind it, and slipped into the narrow passage as it slid open. Barrel stacks lined the service corridor, and he kicked them over to block her pursuit. The rumbling crash echoed like a collapsing barricade.
Inside the collapsing club, Natasha gripped Rose's arm.
"Boss, the building is losing its foundation. We have to move."
Rose did not look back. She took one last breath of scorched air and followed Natasha through the nearest exit.
The cold night slapped them across the face.
Gunfire erupted instantly.
Natasha cried out as a bullet pierced her shoulder. Her hand clamped down on the wound, blood running hot between her fingers.
"Are you alright?" Rose grabbed her and came behind a wall for cover.
"Yes, the bullet just grazed."
"Just wait here."
Rose got out from the other side of the wall and flanked.
She fired controlled shots down the alley. Two gunmen collapsed before they could reload.
A blaze of headlights blinded her.
A black sedan drifted sharply into the alley, tires shrieking against the pavement. Angelo leaned out of the passenger window with a machine gun braced against the frame, his eyes shining with manic determination.
"Stay down, you stubborn bitch!"
The alley exploded in a storm of bullets. Masonry burst apart. Metal sparked. Signboards shattered. Rose sprinted toward cover, the gunfire shredding everything around her. She braced herself for the next burst, expecting the muzzle to swing directly toward her heart.
Before she could react, a force slammed into her from the side.
She and the stranger tumbled through a storefront window, the glass exploding around them. They crashed across the floor, rolling until the momentum died.
Outside, the shooter hesitated, realizing his angle was gone. The car sped away, vanishing into the maze of side streets.
Rose pushed herself up, breath ragged, and looked at the man lying beside her.
She recognized his face.
He was the quiet man who always helped the old hotdog vendor outside her bar every afternoon. Never spoke much. Never drew attention. Always polite.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice low.
He did not answer.
He sagged against her, eyelids fluttering.
Rose placed a hand against his chest to steady him. "This pervert…"
Her palm touched warmth.
Then wetness.
Then a spreading heat that she recognized far too well.
Blood.
Her breath caught.
The man who barely ever spoke, who lived like a piece of the background, had just thrown himself in front of the bullets meant for her.
Now he lay dying in her arms, the light fading from his eyes.
Lorenzo's van screeched into the alley before Natasha even holstered her gun. The doors flew open and Lorenzo stormed out, broad shoulders filling the doorway.
"Boss, move. More shooters on the way."
Rose didn't waste breath. She slid her arms under the wounded man while Lorenzo grabbed his upper body. Together they lifted him, his blood streaking across Rose's wrists.
Gunfire cracked at the mouth of the alley.
Natasha fired back, buying them seconds.
"Hurry," she growled through clenched teeth.
They hauled the man inside. Rose pushed him onto the mattress-lined floor as Lorenzo slammed the van doors shut. Bullets thudded against the metal as the engine roared.
The van lunged forward, tires skidding on broken glass. Natasha dropped into the passenger seat, one hand bracing her wounded shoulder, the other gripping her pistol in case anyone dared chase them.
Inside, Rose pressed her palm to the man's bleeding side, steady and efficient, nothing like the fury that had driven her minutes ago when Lucas begged for his life. Betrayal did that. It carved the soft parts out clean.
She checked his pulse. Weak and erratic.
He had thrown himself into the line of fire without thinking, like a complete idiot. Or someone with no sense of self-preservation. Either way, he did something none of her own men managed tonight.
That was the only thought she allowed before shutting it away.
Lorenzo shouted over the engine, "Where to, Boss?"
"Doc Mallick," Rose replied, eyes still on the wound. "He will not last ten minutes elsewhere."
A hard turn flung her sideways, but she stayed over the man, her hands locked down to keep pressure steady. The van howled through narrow lanes, weaving between late-night traffic and startled pedestrians.
Natasha looked back. "He took a full round. You sure he's worth dragging along?"
Rose didn't answer immediately. She adjusted her grip, tightening pressure until the bleeding slowed a fraction.
Finally she said, "He saved my life. That is worth enough."
Natasha nodded once and faced forward again.
Lorenzo accelerated. Moonlight flickered through the van's small windows, slicing across the stranger's face, pale and still.
"Do not die," she muttered.