Page 114 of Iron Roses
I hear it—soft, almost inaudible at first. The unmistakable sound of a groan.
Fausto smiles, barely looking back.
“You hear that?” he asks. “She’s learning her place. It’s a beautiful thing, really.”
I push past him, moving to the door without waiting for him. The door crashes open.
Guillermo Valosi lies on the ground, a knife lodged deep in his chest. Blood pools beneath him, staining the stone floor. He groans, barely conscious, eyes glazed over.
Elaria is seated on top of him. Her clothes are torn. Her breath comes in gasps, but she’s still alive. Her skin is pale, her chest heaving with each shallow breath. She’s trembling.
Guillermo’s men fill the room in an instant. Allegra shouts into her transmitter.
“Get them in here. Now!”
The sound of boots on the stairs, the rush of men flooding in from the hall, fills the room.
I move to Elaria’s side, but one of Guillermo’s guards grabs my arm. I twist, bringing the blade down in one swift motion, cutting through his grip and slicing across his chest.
Another man rushes toward me, but Allegra is already on him, taking him down with a clean strike. She doesn’t stop. She’s moving faster than the men in the room can react.
I reach down to her, but she flinches, her body still trembling. Her eyes flick up to mine, wide with confusion and fear. The fight continues around us. I’m still holding her when the door slams open again. More Valosi men.
The blood from Guillermo’s body seeps across the floor, staining everything in its path.
Chapter Twenty – Elaria
His palm rests against the back of my neck. The pressure should be grounding, but it only reminds me how violently I’m trembling. My teeth knock together. I can’t make them stop.
Guillermo’s blood sticks to everything. It seeps into the seams of my shirt, into the creases behind my knees, into the lines between my fingers. It’s warm, and it’s everywhere. I can feel it soaking through the back of my waistband, slipping down the inside of my arm.
The blade is still on the floor.
My knees press into stone. The nerves in my legs went numb minutes ago. Or maybe longer. Time’s soft at the edges.
After they caught me, they hauled me back to the house.
Guillermo looked at me. Then at them.
“She tried to run,” the guard on my right said.
Fausto chuckled once.
Guillermo’s eyes drifted down, “She’s a spirited thing.”
Guillermo raised two fingers and snapped. “Take her upstairs.”
They obeyed and I was led to his private room and thrown in. His footsteps came. His boots met the floorboards in quiet strikes. He took his time closing the door.
He crouched. One knee dropped beside me.
His fingers caught my chin, pinching too tight. His thumb pressed against the hinge of my jaw until I opened my mouth without meaning to.
He leaned in. His lips crushed mine. His breath stank—sweet and sharp and rotten. His tongue forced its way inside. I tasted alcohol.
I shoved him. My palms pressed flat against his chest, but he didn’t budge.
He walked me backward. My knees buckled when the backs of my legs hit the bed. I landed hard. My spine arched. He came down over me.
