Chapter 23: His Angel: Chapter 23

It’s way past midnight. I’m on the deck, bourbon in hand, when the quiet of the night snaps like a brittle bone. It’s the kind of quiet that makes you overthink. It invites all your demons to the table while serving them caviar and fucking champagne.

Sleep is a joke these days; my mind won’t shut off, constantly spinning, always pounding with thoughts that won’t settle.

I take a swig of bourbon, feeling it burn down my throat, harsh against the dull ache sitting heavily in my chest. I lean against the railing, looking out over the ocean. It’s like a dark mirror under the moon, reflecting the scattered light of stars above.

The last few weeks have been the best of my entire life. Everly is my wife now, and I’ve had this stupid grin ever since we took our vows.

It was a risky, ballsy move planning that night, having our family priest flown in for a fifty-fifty chance she might say yes. But it worked. It worked out perfectly, and it’s a night I’ll never forget.

I touch the vial around my neck. Everly is everything I never figured I needed, a light in all my dark shit, a woman who can look at the mess I am and still say she loves me.

Thinking about her asleep inside, all curled up and peaceful, does something fierce to my heart. She’s mine now, Mrs. Everly Del Rossa, and damn if that doesn’t pump me full of pride.

I love her laugh, how it cuts through the noise in my head, how she goes toe-to-toe with me, never backing down, and how she melts under my touch, giving me everything I crave.

I love how she fits right into me at night like she was made to be there, her quiet breaths a lullaby.

I love her sharp comebacks, how she doesn’t let me push her around.

I love how she responds to me, how her body arches for more, screams filling the room as I take what’s mine. She’s got this strength, this fire that matches mine, and she looks at me like I’m more than the blood on my hands, more than a product of my violent past.

She’s my salvation, the reason I keep fighting, and I’d burn this whole world down to keep her safe. And that’s the rub, isn’t it? That’s where the demons feast.

Every time I close my eyes, I see a different world where she’s taken from me. There’s this nagging fear, always clawing at me, that I might lose her. To him. To the lies I’ve told.

I should have told her the day I found out that fucker was still breathing. But I couldn’t do it. I still can’t. Not when I know he meant something to her for so long. Sometimes I catch this look in her eyes, this flicker of sadness when she thinks I’m not looking, and I know she misses him. That gets my thoughts racing.

Would she still be here if she knew he was alive?

Would she still have married me?

Still love me?

“Fuck.” I rough a palm down my face. It’s too much, too dark thinking of losing her, which is why this gnawing need to keep her outweighs the guilt of lying to her.

Davian still hasn’t managed to take him out. He’s losing his patience, and so am I. Time is a luxury we don’t have. But Anthony is guarded like the crown fucking jewels, so damn slippery we can’t get a grip on the motherfucker.

Luckily, Everly hasn’t been too restless. Her mom seems to be on the road to recovery, which sets her at ease. Occasionally, she still asks me if she can see her mother. My answer is always the same. No.

She thinks it’s me being overprotective, but the real reason? Her mom doesn’t want to see her. Her mother doesn’t care that Everly’s been gone for months. She blames Everly for Michele’s death, the reason she’s a widow, mourning the man she says she’d loved. I got word that Anthony has been trying to get her to help him find Everly, but she wants nothing to do with her daughter. And that’s something I don’t have the heart to tell my wife. Every night, she prays for her mother to heal, and I can’t bear to crush her spirit with the cold, hard truth.

No. I’ll carry that burden for her. Be the villain who keeps her from seeing her mother.

I’m about to turn back inside when I hear the heavy thud of boots on the deck, the sound sharp and urgent in the stillness. Warning instantly knocks at the back of my skull.

Talon storms toward me, his face carved with tension, his eyes hard as steel, and I feel my gut twist, my instincts kicking into overdrive. He stops in front of me, his chest heaving, his voice low and urgent as he speaks.

“We’ve got a fuckton of boats and choppers heading our way, Isaia. They’re coming from the north, moving fast, and they’re not ours.”

My blood runs cold, the bourbon in my stomach turning to acid as I process his words, my mind racing with the implications. “Who is it?”

“We don’t know. Somehow, they’re blocking our signals.”

A chill crawls up my spine, seeping through every nerve. ‘How many are we talking, here?’

Talon’s jaw tightens, his eyes narrowing as he calculates, his hands already reaching for the gun holstered at his hip. “At least six boats, three choppers, maybe more on the way. They’re moving fast, probably fifteen minutes out, maybe less if they push it. We need to move now, get our men in position.”

I nod, my mind shifting into battle mode, every instinct honed from years in this life kicking in as I start barking orders.

“Get everyone we have armed and positioned along the perimeter, focus on the north beach where they’ll likely land. I want snipers on the roof, two teams at the east and west flanks, and a third ready to defend the villa if they get through. Get the chopper ready. We need to get her out of here.”

I turn toward the villa, my heart racing as I move, but Talon grabs my arm, his grip like iron, his eyes seizing mine with an intensity that stops me cold.

“This is a fucking army, Isaia. We’re outnumbered. You need to be ready to make a call if this goes south. We can’t hold them off forever.” His words hit me like a slap, the reality of our situation sinking in, and I feel a cold dread settle in my chest, the fear I’ve been carrying for weeks roaring to life.

I pull my arm free. “They’re not getting her, Talon.”

“Yes, sir.”

“We’ll kill every last one of them before they touch her. And, Talon?”

“Yeah?”

I ball my fists. “If it’s a choice between me or her, you choose her. Understand? Always. Her.”

Talon nods, his expression hardening into a mask of steel. “Understood.”

I sprint inside, my boots pounding against the wooden floor as I head for our bedroom, my mind racing with a thousand scenarios, each one worse than the last. I push open the door, the hinges creaking, and I see Everly sleeping in our bed, her hair fanned across the pillow, her chest rising and falling with slow, even breaths.

She looks so peaceful, so fucking beautiful, and the sight of her hits me like a punch, the fear of losing her choking me as I cross the room in three strides.

I kneel beside her, my hand shaking as I brush a strand of hair from her face, my voice low and urgent as I speak.

“Everly, baby girl, you need to wake up.”

Her eyes flutter open, confusion clouding her gaze for a moment before she sees the look on my face, the fear I can’t hide. She sits up, reaching for me as her voice trembles with alarm.

“Isaia, what’s wrong?”

I take her face in my hands, my thumbs brushing her cheeks, and I force myself to stay calm, to be the rock she needs right now, even as my heart pounds with terror. “They found us.”

She jerks upright. “The Paladinos?”

“Yeah. Come on, baby girl. We don’t have much time.”

I pull her to her feet, my hands steady despite the storm raging, and I grab a shirt from the chair, helping her into it as quickly as I can. My fingers fumble with the fabric as I dress her, and my mind screams at me to hurry.

I hear the choppers circling closer, their searchlights slicing through the windows, casting harsh beams of light across the room, and the boats are near the shore, their engines a menacing hum that vibrates through the walls.

“Isaia,” her bottom lip trembles, “I’m scared.”

Without thinking, I slam my lips onto hers, kissing her with a desperation that matches the drumming of my pulse. It’s raw. Heated. It’s all the words I can’t say. I lean my forehead against hers.

“I know you’re scared, baby girl. But I swear on my life I won’t let them hurt you.”

“I’m not worried about myself, Isaia. I’m worried about you. I can’t lose you.”

Fuck. Her words curl around my heart, tasting like the sweetest poison, and I clutch her closer, burying my face in her neck, breathing her in. The ticking clock inside my head is almost deafening—we need to move now.

“Come on.” I take her hand, pulling her toward the door, my gun already in my other hand.

The sound of gunfire erupts outside, sharp and staccato, splitting the night like a thunderclap, and I hear the shouts of my men, the crack of their rifles as they engage the enemy on the beach, the chaos of battle unfolding faster than I can process.

Everly’s grip tightens on my hand, her voice shaking as she speaks, her words barely audible over the cacophony of war outside. “Isaia, what’s happening? How many are there?”

I glance at her, my jaw clenched, my voice low and urgent as I respond, forcing myself to focus on getting her to safety, even as the gunfire grows louder, the choppers hovering so close I can feel the vibration in my chest. “Not enough to stop me from protecting you.”

We round the corner, and a man dressed in black, a balaclava covering his face, stands at the end of the corridor. As he lifts his gun, I yank Everly close, my hand on the back of her head as I force her to bury her face against my chest.

I aim and pull the trigger, Everly’s shrieks of fear ringing louder than the gunshot.

The fucker collapses, and I place a quick kiss on her temple. “I got you, baby girl. Let’s go.”

We’ve just stepped over the bleeding corpse when another fucker storms toward us. I shove Everly to the side, her cries slicing through my marrow, and I grab the guy before he gets a chance to reach her, slamming him against the wall, muzzle pressed against his throat, and I squeeze the trigger.

Blood splatters everywhere, my face, the wall, the floor, the fucking ceiling.

“Oh, my God,” Everly sobs, hyperventilating. Fuck! She can’t have an attack now. I don’t have an inhaler. Shit!

I let go of the lifeless body, letting it slide down the wall, then rush up to her, cupping her cheeks with my bloody hands. “Look at me.”

She’s gasping.

“Everly, I need you to breathe. You have to focus on your breathing, okay? I’m going to keep you safe.” I lean close, touching my nose to hers. “Just promise me you’ll breathe.” I place her palm on my chest. “Feel my breaths. Match them. In…and out…you got this, baby girl.”

Her breath hisses as she nods, her gaze finally zeroing in on my chest, watching it rise and fall with each breath. I give her a beat—two…three—and watch as her tears stream down her face while she desperately tries to draw in breath.

More gunfire explodes outside, men screaming, cursing, getting closer. I’m starting to fucking panic because I need keep her from having a full-blown attack, but I also need to get her the fuck out of here.

“Baby—”

“I’m okay.” She nods frantically. “I’m okay.”

“That’s my girl.” I grab her hand, and we start running, but then Talon’s voice breaks through the radio on my side.

“The bird’s been compromised. Sir, don’t take her there.”

“Fuck!”

“The bird?” Everly stares at me in confusion.

“The chopper,” I clarify, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, my mind in fucking overdrive. I grab the radio. “What about the safe room?”

“Safe room’s clear, sir. We’ll hold ’em off as long as we can. But her get there fast.”

I snake an arm around her waist, and we move through the halls to the back of the villa. A fresh wave of gunfire and shouting erupts, closer this time, and I’m practically dragging her down the stairs, every instinct on high alert.

We reach the hidden door to the safe room, a reinforced bunker beneath the main floor, and I push it open, the hinges groaning as I usher her inside, my heart breaking at the terror in her eyes as she looks at me, her hands clutching my shirt.

“What is this?” she asks.

“Plan B, baby girl.”

I guide her down the narrow stairs, the sound of choppers’ blades whipping the air into a frenzy overhead, their searchlights sweeping the grounds, hunting for us.

I hear the boats hitting the shore, the shouts of the Paladino men as they storm the beach, their voices a mix of Italian and English, barking orders as they advance, their gunfire relentless as my men fight to hold the line.

My hands shake as I check the supply stashes in a corner of the room, canned food, bottled water, a pack of medical supplies, weapons. I grab the inhaler and give it to her, watching as she takes two pumps, inhaling deeply. The relief on her face is palpable, but temporary. Soon, the fear returns, her eyes darting over the room, then at me. “What is this?”

“It’s a safe room. No one will find you here.”

“Tell me you’re staying here with me.”

“Everly—”

“Isaia.” Her mismatched eyes well up with tears, the bravest and most terrified I’d ever seen her, and it fucking kills me. “Tell me you’re staying here with me.”

I bite my bottom lip, hating every second of this. “I need to go up there.”

“No. You need to stay with me.”

“Everly, I need to keep them away from you.”

“Isaia, please. I can’t lose you, too.” Her voice drops to a whisper, hitting me like a punch to the gut.

I step closer, cupping her face and thumbing away the tears that escape. I’d give anything to erase this moment and take us back to the clearing where it was just us. Where the war and the lies took a back seat to our love, our hope. But that’s not a luxury we have now; the only thing that matters is making sure they don’t take her from me.

“I love you, baby girl. With everything I am. But you have to let me do this.”

“I love you, too.” She chokes up, her fingers delicately touching the vial around my neck. “You better come back. You promised me forever.”

I nod, my throat tight as I pull my hand free, my heart shattering at the thought of leaving her here, but I have no choice, not if I want to keep her alive.

Grabbing a rifle and a radio from the supply box, I hold out the radio to her. “This radio is linked to the mainland. Give it an hour or two. If I’m not back,” I swallow hard, “use it.”

“Isaia—”

I kiss her. I kiss her like it’s the last fucking time I’ll ever have the honor. Sweeping my tongue, deeply, desperately, through her mouth, I commit her taste to memory, letting it sink into every corner of my being. And when I break the kiss, I don’t pause. I don’t hover.

I rush up the stairs, and with one last glance at her, I close the door, locking it with a heavy thud, the sound echoing in my ears like a death knell. I turn, sprinting back through the villa, my rifle in hand, my blood roaring with adrenaline as I head for the deck where Talon is waiting, shouting orders over the chaos of the battle.

I burst onto the deck, the night alive with the sound of war, the choppers hovering overhead, their searchlights blinding as they sweep over us, the boats now docked at the north beach, the motherfuckers spilling onto the sand, a swarm of armed men moving with deadly precision.

Bullets light up the night, flashes popping like crazy fireworks. My guys scramble for cover behind the dunes, blasting back at the Paladino soldiers charging in with numbers that make my gut churn. Those soldiers mean business. You can tell by how they move, like nothing will stop them.

Next to Talon, I hunker, rifle steady as I aim toward the beach. I squeeze the trigger and feel the kickback slam into my shoulder. One of those black-vested goons drops like a sack of bricks, blood seeping into the sand, and a rush of adrenaline floods me. But his buddies just keep coming, yelling like madmen fueled by pure grit and fury.

Talon fires beside me, his aim steady, his voice a growl, his words cutting through the chaos of the gunfire and the roar of the choppers.

“They’re pushing hard on the north flank. We’ve got maybe ten minutes before they breach the perimeter.”

“We need to fall back to the villa if they get through. We can’t let them reach the safe room,” I order, my jaw clenched, scanning the beach as I fire again, taking down another man, his body jerking as the bullet hits him in the face. Still, there are too many, their numbers growing with every second as more boats arrive, their engines a relentless drone that fills the air.

A scream rips through the air from the east, one of my guys crumpling behind a dune as those Paladino soldiers push forward.

Bullets fly, kicking up sand and debris as their choppers hover closer, making it tough to see clearly. I squeeze off another shot, hitting my mark, and aim at the next.

Their yells get louder, bullets whizzing dangerously close, shattering the wooden deck railing above us. I gesture urgently to Talon, my voice cutting through the chaos.

“Tell the snipers to aim for those choppers. We gotta take ’em out before they unload more motherfuckers.”

Talon nods, shouting orders into his radio, his voice steady despite the chaos, and I turn back to the beach, my rifle aimed at a man in a black balaclava, his gun trained on one of my men as he advances, his movements precise and deadly.

I fire, the bullet hitting him in the back of the head, blood exploding as he falls, but another takes his place, their numbers endless, their gunfire relentless as they close the distance, their shouts a mix of Italian curses and orders to push forward.

I hear the crack of a sniper rifle from the roof, the sound sharp and precise, and one of the choppers lurches, its tail smoking as it spirals out of control, crashing into the ocean with a deafening explosion, the fireball lighting up the night, the heat of it washing over us even from this distance.

But the victory is short-lived. The other choppers adjust their positions, their searchlights pinning us down as they open fire, their machine guns tearing through the night, bullets ripping into the deck, splintering wood and forcing us to scramble for cover.

Diving behind a crate, Talon’s beside me, firing as he shouts into his radio, his voice urgent as he speaks. “We’ve got two more choppers incoming from the west. They’re dropping men on the cliffs. We’re surrounded, Isaia. We need to fall back now.”

Cold dread settles in my chest, the reality of our situation sinking in, and I fire again, my aim steady despite the chaos. My mind races with the need to protect Everly, to keep her safe, to keep my promise.

I glance at the villa, my heart pounding as I think of Everly in the safe room, her face flashing in my mind, her voice echoing in my ears, and I know I can’t let them get to her, not now, not ever.

I turn to Talon, my voice a growl, my resolve hardening into steel, my fear giving way to a fierce determination that burns through me.

“We hold the line as long as we can. If they breach, we fall back to the villa and get Everly out. No one gets to her. We fight until the last man. Understood?”

Talon nods, his face grim as he reloads his gun, his voice steady as he responds. “Let’s make them bleed.”