59

59
Alaric’s POV
This was a set up. A fucking set up. And as much as I hated to admit it, it was a mistake from my side. I should have seen it coming. This was supposed to be a simple reconnaissance mission-get in, find the intel we needed, and get out. But the moment we breached the door of the hideout, we walked straight into an ambush.
The air was so thick with the metallic tang of gunpowder and smoke, so heavy I could almost taste it. My ears rang from the explosion that had gone off moments earlier, shattering what little quiet we’d had left. Everything had descended into chaos faster than I’d anticipated.
I glanced to my left. Emilia was crouched behind an overturned table, her face a mask of fierce concentration as she returned fire. There was nothing delicate about the way she moved. She had a gun in her hands, her body angled for the cleanest shot, and there was something wild in her eyes-something that matched the thrum of adrenaline in my veins. And it also made me wary. When I had given her the gun before we left the car, I hadn’t expected that she’d know how to use it. I hadn’t expected that there’d even be a need for her to use it. Yet here she was, using it expertly.
She had a lot of explaining to do.
“Alaric!” she yelled, her voice cutting through the cacophony. “We need to move. We’re pinned down here.”
I risked a look over the edge of the crate I was using for cover, spotting at least three of the Nightshade Syndicate’s men advancing on us. I gritted my teeth, firing off a quick burst to force them back. I felt the sharp sting of a bullet grazing my arm, but it barely registered. The pain was drowned out by the rush of survival, by the sight of Emilia fighting beside me.
“Cover me,” I barked, moving before she could respond.
I rolled out from behind the crate, firing at the closest man and catching him in the shoulder. He fell back with a grunt, but it gave us only a moment’s reprieve. I sprinted towards Emilia’s position, sliding in beside her. Her eyes flashed with something-relief, maybe, or irritation. It was hard to tell in the dim light.
“This was a terrible idea,” she hissed as I reloaded. Her voice was breathless, but she wasn’t panicking. If anything, she looked exhilarated.
“You insisted on coming,” I shot back, but there was no real bite in my words. I glanced over my shoulder. The only way out was through the narrow hallway behind us, a choke point that would leave us exposed. “We need to make a run for it. On my mark.”
“Got it,” she said, her jaw set with determination. She fired off another few shots, forcing the men to duck back into cover.
I took a deep breath, bracing myself. “Now!” I grabbed her wrist, pulling her with me as we sprinted towards the exit.
The noise was deafening-gunfire, the shouts of men, the splintering of wood as bullets tore through the walls. We were almost there when I felt her stumble. I turned just in time to see her wince, clutching her side.
“Emilia!” I hauled her against me, half-dragging her the last few steps into the narrow corridor. We burst through the back door and into the alley, the cold night air hitting us like a slap.
“I’m fine,” she gasped, but her face was pale, and there was blood seeping through her fingers. “Just keep moving.”
We didn’t stop until we were a good distance away, hidden in the shadows of an abandoned building. I pressed her back against the brick wall, scanning the area for any signs of pursuit. My heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might burst out of my chest. I glanced down at her, at the way she was clutching her side, and something twisted inside me.
“You’re hurt,” I said, more harshly than I intended.
“It’s nothing,” she bit out, but her breath hitched in pain when she tried to straighten up.
“Let me see.” I didn’t wait for her to argue. I pulled her hand away, examining the wound. It wasn’t deep, but it was enough to scare the hell out of me. “You need to stop pretending you’re invincible.”
“And you need to stop acting like you don’t care,” she shot back, her voice trembling now, the bravado cracking.
I froze, her words like a punch to the gut. She was right, of course. I’d spent so long building up these walls, pretending that she didn’t matter, that she was just another piece on the chessboard. But in that moment, with her blood staining my hands and her eyes searching mine, I couldn’t lie to myself anymore.
“Emilia…” I started, but she cut me off.
“You think I don’t know?” she whispered. Her voice was raw, almost pleading. “You think I can’t see it? You’re so used to pushing everyone away, to keeping everything locked down so tight. But it’s not working anymore, Alaric. Not with me.”
I swallowed hard, looking away. The truth of her words was unbearable, a sharp ache in my chest. “You shouldn’t have come tonight,” I said quietly. It was all I could manage.
She let out a bitter laugh. “And what, leave you to handle it alone? Let you walk into a trap and get yourself killed? No, Alaric. I couldn’t do that.”
“You could’ve been killed,” I snapped, the anger rising again, this time directed at myself. “I can’t-” I stopped, my voice breaking.
Her hand found mine, squeezing it tight. I looked down at our intertwined fingers, the sight so simple yet so devastating. “I know what you’re trying to say,” she murmured. “But I made my choice. I’d rather be out here, with you, fighting this together, than safe and alone somewhere.”
I couldn’t respond. There were no words big enough for the swell of emotions crashing inside me. Instead, I pulled her closer, cradling the back of her head as I pressed my forehead to hers. It was a quiet, desperate kind of intimacy, something that spoke louder than anything I could say.
Her breath hitched, and she let out a shuddering sigh. “I care about you, Alaric,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “Despite everything. Despite the danger, the madness… I care.”
My grip on her tightened involuntarily. I wanted to say it back, to give her the reassurance she deserved. But the words lodged in my throat, heavy and impossible. Instead, I tilted her chin up and kissed her. It was rough, almost bruising, but she didn’t pull away. She kissed me back with equal intensity, like she needed this as much as I did.
When we finally broke apart, she was breathing hard, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Is that your way of saying you care too?” she asked, half-laughing, half-crying.
I brushed a stray tear from her cheek, my thumb lingering on her skin. “It’s the best I can do right now,” I admitted.
She nodded, accepting that for what it was. “Then it’s enough.”
We stood there for a long moment, just holding each other. “How did you know how to shoot a gun?” I asked.
She shot me a wicked smile. “You’re not the only Mafia I know,” she answered simply. And even though that was supposed to set bells ringing in my head, I found myself smiling back. Almost laughing.
Finally, I pulled back, resting my hand on the nape of her neck. “We need to get you patched up,” I said, forcing myself back into practicality. “And we have to go over that ledger again. We’re missing something.”
She nodded, her expression calm despite the pain I knew she was feeling. “Together?” she asked, her voice softer now.
I met her gaze, squeezing her hand. “Together,” I promised.