The Don’s Soulmate

5. Carlotta

Chapter 5

Carlotta

This must be a nightmare , I think to myself, digging my nails into the palm of my hand. It hurts; that’s good. The pain helps to shift my focus away from the smell of blood and the painful scrapes on my knees.

The past fifteen minutes were an assault on each of my senses and were so very petrifying that the calm after the storm now feels like a colossal joke.

The men I was so terrified of, lie dead around me, and the even more terrifying man who sent them to their graves is looking down at me with such sweetness, telling me I’m safe.

Is he the real devil I should fear? From the things I witnessed, I should be afraid of him.

And yet, I swear his ice-cold blue eyes become warmer the longer I stare into them. As he pulls me up off the floor.

"Are you hurt" His voice rumbles low, tinged with a surprising tenderness.

I open my mouth but no words come out. My mind is spinning, struggling to reconcile this sudden shift. One second a cold-blooded killer, the next a concerned protector.

He steps closer, his imposing frame blocking out everything else. My vision narrows until all I see are those magnetic eyes. Up close, they are endless pools of blue.

I feel myself being drawn deeper, an invisible tether pulling me towards him. Something primal and powerful comes alive within me. In this moment, nothing else matters but his touch, his gaze...him. I can’t let him worry.

For his sake, I let him know that I’m “just shaken.”

For a while, I watch him contemplate my words, lost in thought. Then, whatever debate he must have been having is now over.

"Don't be afraid, I won't let anyone hurt you," he murmurs, his breath hot against my ear.

A promise. A vow. His words wrap around me like a shield, awakening sensations and longings I've never known. I should run, I know I should, but my feet are rooted in place.

He tells Marco something, but I can’t hear. All I can do is feel. His hand over mine, and how perfectly mine fits in his.

His hand trails up my palm to get my attention, igniting my skin. The world fades away until nothing exists but his touch...and the realization that I never want this moment to end.

But, it does.

Without hesitation, he guides me through the aftermath of destruction, stepping over broken glass and cowering bodies. I try to avoid looking at the bloodied bodies and focus only on the feeling of his hand wrapped securely around mine.

But then, we reach the man with no eyes and I freeze. The images rush back of his fingers digging through pupils. I stand there, transfixed in horror, unable to tear my gaze away from the gruesome sight.

He notices my distress and, with a gentle yet firm touch, redirects my focus back to him by guiding my chin upwards with his thumb and fingers, blocking the gruesome scene from my view. His eyes silently reassure me that I'm safe with him as he shakes his head, telling me to forget.

He continues to steer me forward. I know I should pull away, but there’s something magnetic about him that makes me ignore all warnings. I'm powerless to resist as he guides us into the unknown.

We cross the shattered window and the main door, until we reach a small metal door. He opens it and makes me pass through first, closing the door behind him. We find ourselves in a small alleyway which offers a temporary sanctuary.

The blinding sunlight momentarily stuns me. My eyes flutter, trying to adjust to the brightness of the light.

He shields me against a brick wall with his body, his figure now blocking out the hot rays of light. One hand cradles my neck as he presses his muscular frame against mine. His cologne mixes with the metallic scent of blood on his skin.

My heart races being this close to him, danger and desire warring within.

His eyes soften. He now caresses my cheek with a calloused hand.

Sirens wail closer, cars crossing past the alley. But cocooned in this alley with his body shielding mine, I feel like the bank never existed. We are isolated, alone in the world. He leans in closer, but not close enough.

My lips part involuntarily and I find myself drawn into his marshland of a gaze, unable to look away. There’s a flame that burns in my depth… does it in his too?

Kiss me, I scream into the abyss of thoughts in my head. Kiss me, please…

Suddenly, the wailing sirens come closer and closer, flashing lights passing by the alley. We hear people screaming with relief from within the bank. The carabinieri are here!

His attention stays fixed on me as his hand moves to brush a strand of hair from my face. His touch is electric, sending shivers down my spine.

"I need to go, cara," he says, his voice low and urgent. "I can’t be found here."

“But the carabinieri have arrived,” I murmur, breaking into a small frown. Why does he want to leave? “We’re safe now,” I say, taking his hand into mine, desperate for him to linger just a while longer.

On the main road outside the alley, carabinieri now begin to swarm the area, pushing back frantic crowds gathered to witness the spectacle. It's a sea of noise and motion. I watch him closely, afraid he will disappear the moment I blink.

His expression is closed off, his jaw clenches, his eyes constantly scanning for threats only he can sense. He squeezes my hand, as if to remind me to stay strong.

His eyes read my face intently. There's a vulnerability in his gaze now that tugs at my heart. Without thinking, I reach up to touch his cheek.

The barest hint of a smile touches his lips. And then, without warning, he turns away and breaks into a run, jumping over a wall.

I think to run after him, but stand there, transfixed.

After all, none of this is real. This is just a dream… right? A bad dream.