Chapter 8 - A Child's CourageEmma looked past the silver barrel of the gun pressed against her ribs and locked eyes with Allessandro. Despite her small size and terror, the bravery that had made her speak up at the breakfast table returned.
"Mr. Allessandro..." Emma whimpered softly. "Don't let her hurt mama."
"Shut up, you brat!" Isabella yelled, shaking the child.
In that split second, Isabella’s focus shifted away from Allessandro to scream at the little girl.
It was the only opening Allessandro needed.
With superhuman speed born of decades of combat, Allessandro closed the distance between them. He didn't shoot—risking the child was not an option. Instead, he lunged forward, grabbing the barrel of Isabella’s gun with his left hand, shoving it skyward just as she pulled the trigger.
BANG!
The shot smashed into the ceiling, showering plaster down on them.
Allessandro twisted her wrist with brutal efficiency. Isabella shrieked in pain as her gun dropped to the floor. With his other arm, Allessandro scooped Emma up, shielding her small body with his broad back, and shoved Isabella violently across the room.
Isabella hit the wall hard, collapsing onto the carpet, clutching her broken wrist.
Allessandro set Emma down behind him. "Run to the study, Emma. Lock the door and stay down."
"Mr. Allessandro..." Emma whispered, looking up at him with awe.
"Go! Now!" he commanded gently.
May you like
Emma bolted out the door toward safety. Allessandro turned back to Isabella, his face an unreadable mask of dark retribution. He picked up her fallen pistol, threw it into the corner, and pointed his Kimber at her heart.
"Your brother’s strike team is dying downstairs," Allessandro said coldly as heavy gunfire echoed from the foyer. "And now, Isabella... it's time to pay your debt."
