The Don and His Mafia Princess: Book Two of The Costanzo Series - Standalone

CHAPTER 13

ANDREA

Samuel continues to try his best to shake off the pursuing cars, but it's a daunting task. His hands grip the steering wheel tightly, knuckles white with tension as he swerves and weaves through the abandoned streets. I can see the determination etched on his face and the unwavering focus in his eyes as he pushes the car to its limits.

My heart pounds in my chest, adrenaline coursing through my veins as I watch the unfolding chaos. The sound of gunfire and screeching tires fills the air, a cacophony of violence and desperation. I can't help but wonder how we ended up in this nightmare, how a simple trip to the airport turned into a life-or-death struggle.

Suddenly, my eyes widen in horror as I spot a stationary car ahead, unmoving in our path like a silent sentinel. Time seems to slow down, each second stretching into an eternity as we hurtle toward the immobile vehicle. I brace myself for impact, my hands gripping the seat, my breath caught in my throat.

But Samuel doesn't slow down. Instead, he accelerates, a look of grim determination on his face as he drives straight into the stationary car. The collision is jarring, a sickening crunch of metal on metal that reverberates through my bones. The force of the impact slams me back into my seat, the seat belt digging into my chest as it strains to hold me in place.

For a moment, there is only silence, a deafening absence of sound that feels almost surreal in the aftermath of the crash. Then, our engine sputters and dies, the once-powerful machine reduced to a useless hunk of meta. Smoke begins to rise from the crumpled hood, an acrid smell filling the air.

I turn to Samuel, my eyes wide with fear and confusion. "What do we do now?" I ask, my voice trembling.

He doesn't answer right away, his gaze fixed on the wreckage ahead. I can see the wheels turning in his mind, the calculations and contingencies being weighed and measured. Finally, he turns to me, a look of grim determination on his face.

"We keep going," he says, his voice steady despite the chaos around us. "We don't stop until we're safe."

I nod, and together, we climb out of the wrecked car, our bodies battered but unbroken. I barely take a single step before the ominous click of guns reaches my ears. I know, without a doubt, that they're pointed directly at my head. Scanning my surroundings, I count five men, each with a weapon trained on me.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" one of the men sings, grabbing my hair and yanking my head back.

I don't answer, my focus solely on steadying my racing heart and calming my frayed nerves. But the sound of someone grunting in pain shatters the tense silence, drawing my attention. I whirl around to find one of the men raining punches down on Samuel. His gun lies discarded on the ground beside him as they force him to his knees, overpowering him. The scene unfolds in slow motion, each blow landing with sickening force, filling me with a sense of helpless dread.

"Leave him alone!" I shout at the men hurting him.

"Or what, Princess?" one taunts, flashing a smile that reveals his rotten teeth.

"I will..." My words are cut short by the sudden eruption of gunfire. The acrid smell of smoke scorched my nostrils. Instinctively, I duck, squeezing my eyes shut and covering my ears as bullets rain down once more. No matter how many times I find myself in these situations, they never get easier to endure.

A hand grasps mine, pulling me to my feet. The familiar scent of his cologne tells me it's safe, and I don't resist.

"I'm here," Stefano breathes, his voice a soothing balm to my frayed nerves. He draws me into his strong embrace, and I melt against him, relief flooding through every fiber of my being.

I bury my face in his chest, inhaling deeply, desperate to fill my lungs with his scent. But instead of his usual intoxicating aroma, the metallic tang of blood and the acrid smell of gunpowder assault my nostrils. I pull back slightly, my eyes widening as I take in the crimson stains marring his once-pristine shirt.

Questions burn on the tip of my tongue, a myriad of concerns and fears threatening to spill forth. But I swallow them back, forcing myself to focus on the present, on the fact that he is here, that he came for me when I needed him most.

"I have never been happier in my life to see you," I whisper, tears stinging my eyes as I gaze up at him.

He chuckles softly, the sound warm and reassuring, before taking my hand in his. With a gentle tug, he leads me towards his car, and we slide into the passenger seats side by side. Samuel takes the wheel, and we speed back to the apartment in record time.

Inside, Stefano doesn't pause for a moment, pacing the living room floor with a pensive expression etched onto his features. Curiosity gnaws at me, and I can't resist asking the question burning in my mind.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Why were you attacked?" he counters, turning the question back on me.

"That's a good question. Why was I attacked?" I echo, surprised by the realization. It doesn't make sense. Stefano's intel points to him being the target, not me. I'm certain it was the Kazan gang; their distinctive tattoos, as Stefano had described, were unmistakable.

"You see, even you can't seem to answer that," he points out.

"Maybe they thought I was your sister," I suggest, grasping for a plausible explanation.

"That's possible, but how did they know the exact time you left to ambush you? I only asked Samuel to take you on short notice."

"Hmm, do you think someone betrayed you?"

"That's not possible. Only two people knew, and one isn't capable of betraying me since she's family. And Samuel almost lost his life."

"Do you think we might have been wrong about who the attack was meant for?"

"That's not possible. Every lead I have pointed to the Kazan gang, and your family has no business with them."

"That's true. So why was I attacked today?"

"I don't know, but whatever the reason, I will find out," Stefano declares, striding over to me on the couch. "And before I do, you're staying by my side, where I can fucking protect you. Today, I was lucky, but next time..." He sucks in a breath, closing his eyes briefly. "I don't want to imagine," he finishes, his eyes opening to meet mine, a fierce protectiveness burning within them.