Page 36 of The Mafia's Quintuplets
She looks at me with confusion and pain clouding her eyes. "Wil?" Her voice is barely audible, bubbling strangely.
"I'm here." I sob, applying more pressure to the wound even as I recognize the futility with the clinical part of my brain. The bullet has hit something vital. There's too much blood. Even an OR and a surgeon on hand would have a hard time saving her. "Help is coming. Just hold on."
The men are silent above us, staring down with what appears to be cool detachment. It’s hard to say with them wearing masks, but if they obviously didn't plan for a witness, and a shooting, the turn of events hasn’t rattled them. I ignore them, focusing entirely on Gisele's rapidly paling face.
"Love you, Wil," she whispers, her hand weakly squeezing mine.
I watch the life drain from her eyes, transforming them from the vibrant, mischievous gaze I know so well to something vacant and empty. Her hand goes slack in mine. "No," I scream again, shaking her as if I could force life back into her body. "Gisele, please!"
The men are moving again, one grabbing my arm to pull me away from her. I fight wildly, beyond reason or self-preservation, wanting only to stay with my friend. Suddenly, the window explodes inward in a shower of glass. Two new figures enter with astonishing speed and efficiency. These men are also in dark clothing and immediately engage with the intruders.
The chaos that follows is a blur of violence, gunshots, grunts of pain, and the sickening sound of bones breaking. I curl my body over Gisele's, trying to protect her even though I know it's too late.
When it's over, the two masked intruders lie motionless on my bedroom floor. The newcomers stand watchfully over them, weapons trained on their still forms. One speaks with a faint Russian accent into a communication device strapped to his wrist, his voice calm despite the carnage surrounding us. "Perimeter secured. Two hostiles neutralized. Collateral damage. The package is safe but traumatized."
Package. He means me. I'm the package.
Sirens wail in the distance, growing louder with each passing second. I barely register them, still cradling Gisele's body, rocking back and forth as tears stream down my face.
The bedroom door opens again, and another figure enters. Through my tears, I recognize Makari's imposing form. He takes in the scene with one sweeping glance. The broken window, the downed intruders, and me clutching Gisele's lifeless body.
"Wil." He moves toward me, kneeling to meet my eyes. "Are you hurt?"
I look up at him, rage cutting through grief like a blade. "This isyourfault," I spit, my voice raw from screaming. "She's dead because of you. Because of what you are."
He doesn't flinch from the accusation. "Yes."
His admission only fuels my anger. "You said there was danger. You didn't say they would killher."
"I'm sorry." The words sound strange in his mouth, as if he rarely speaks them. "This wasn't supposed to happen. My men were watching the building, but these two found another way in."
I look down at her face, peaceful now despite the violence of her death. My best friend. The closest thing to family I've had since my mother died. The one person who stood by me through everything, including the insanity of quintuplets. "She was trying to protect me," I whisper, my anger giving way to crushing grief. "She didn't even know what was happening, but she tried to save me anyway."
"She was brave," he says quietly. "I promise you, the men responsible for this will pay."
The cold certainty in his voice should frighten me, but I'm beyond fear now. I'm beyond anything except the overwhelming loss and the knowledge that my life as I knew it has ended tonight.
"The police are coming. They can't help you, Wil. Not with this. These men were sent by people who won't stop trying. Next time it could be you, which also means the babies will die.”
I know he's right. Whatever complaint I file, whatever protection order I seek, it won't matter to people who break into homes with guns. People who shoot without hesitation.
"Come with me," he says, extending his hand. "I can keep you safe. I swear nothing like this will ever happen to you or anyone you care about again."
The sirens are very close now. I look around at my bedroom, transformed into a scene of horror. Blood stains the floor, the sheets, and my clothes. Glass glitters among the destruction. This place will never be home again.
I have nowhere else to go. No family to run to. No friends who could protect me from the kind of men who did this. Numb with grief and shock, I nod once. "I need to bring something first."
He helps me to my feet, steadying me when I sway dangerously. I move to the window, to my collection of plants illuminated now by the flashing blue and red lights approaching outside.
I lift the pot containing my mother's rosebush, clutching it to my chest like a shield. It's the only piece of my old life I want to take with me, this living connection to my mother, the only family I had before Gisele, before these babies growing inside me. Before I turn back to him, I deliberately drop the rosebush he sent into the trash, seeing him flinch from the corner of my eye.
Facing him again, I say, "I'm ready.” Truthfully, I'm anything but.
He leads me through the apartment, his men forming a protective barrier around us. I don't look back at Gisele's body. I can't bear to see her like that one more time.
As we slip away into the night, sirens wailing behind us, I realize I've crossed a threshold. The ordinary life I built is gone forever, shattered like the window through which violence entered my home. Ahead lies only uncertainty and the grim protection offered by a man whose world I fear almost as much as the dangers lurking outside it.
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