The Don’s Soulmate

16. Ettore

Chapter 16

Ettore

My heart skips a beat the moment I spot Carlotta in the crowded gallery with that bastard, Ugo. Rage boils in my veins, hot and venomous. After what he did to her - how he assaulted her and left her bruised and battered - she's still by his side?

There can only be one reason why.

Knowing that her family is still forcing this marriage, her beauty fades in the light of how fragile she looks in front of her abuser.

A memory from 300 years ago rushes back, of a past lover from my time spent in the Zulu tribe in Africa. Nandi, her name was and we fell in love as children. Being from different clans, I was kept at bay. One night, we were discovered by the baobab trees. I was tied to one for three days, in the sweltering heat. When my clan men found me, they released me only for me to learn that Nandi had been wed off to a prince at the tender age of sixteen, only to be killed at the hands of her husband when he discovered our love affair the morning after our wedding. I clench my fists, anger coursing through my veins at the realization that not much has changed.

How could such a thing happen in today's day and age, and in Italy of all places? How could her family still force her to marry a man she doesn’t wish to, knowing the evil that runs through his veins?

"Carlotta," I grit out under my breath, snapping back to the present. I notice Ugo's furious gaze locked onto mine. He's clutching Carlotta's arm tightly, his grip possessive and tight. He’s hurting her. Ignoring the swelling anger within me, I swiftly move towards them, to put an end to this madness.

Focused on reaching Carlotta, who Ugo is now shouting accusations at, I don't notice the waiter carrying a tray of champagne glasses. I slam into him, sending the delicate glassware crashing to the floor. The sound of shattering glass fills the air, but I have no time to apologize or even look back. My sole concern is getting to Carlotta and freeing her from Ugo's hold.

There's no way I'll allow him to harm her any further. If her family won’t protect her, I certainly will.

My fury reaches boiling point as I watch Ugo grab Carlotta's hair, yanking her towards the exit. His other hand is at her neck, fingers digging into her delicate skin. Panicked voices rise around me, people shouting for security to intervene. But I can't wait for them; my body propels forward in a sprint, like I used to when hunting in the Africa Savannah with just a spear in hand.

"Please, Ugo, let me go!" she begs, her cheeks tear-stained from the pain he's inflicting on her.

They’re at the threshold of the exit. One more minute, and they’ll be out of sight. I run as fast as I can.

As I close the distance between us, I draw upon my centuries of martial arts training and experiences. The ancient technique of Aikido, honed during my time as a samurai, rushes to the forefront of my mind.

"Let her go!" I roar, lunging forward and seizing Ugo's wrist. Using the art of Atemi, I force him to release his grip on Carlotta's hair and neck by slamming the dorsal edge of my hand on the ulnar nerve of his right elbow.

"Argh!" Ugo cries out in pain, pulling away as the pain shoots up his arm.

"Get behind me, Carlotta," I command, positioning myself between her and Ugo when she doesn’t move from fear.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Ugo spits, now standing back up to face me. "She's mine!"

I notice however, he doesn’t try to fight me. His bruises from the previous night still scar his face. Good. He’ll remember his lesson for a few more days.

"We’ll see about that," I hiss, the words laced with venom.

"Please, Ettore," Carlotta implores, her eyes meeting mine. Her voice, a gentle sound, makes me even angrier. What kind of a man could hurt something this sweet? This innocent? "Tell Ugo I didn't know you'd be here tonight. I don't want him to think I was trying to see you behind his back. Tell him there’s nothing between us.”

I hate to see her cower in front of him, trying to appease him when he should be on his knees, begging her forgiveness. Her voice trembles as she pleads with me. I know she’s terrified, but I refuse to let it dictate our actions.

She needs to learn to show him his place.

"Carlotta, why should you have to prove anything to him?" I question her with authority, dismissive of her request. "You owe him nothing. Especially not after what he's done to you."

She looks at me with pleading eyes, but I stand firm in my refusal to comply with her wishes. As far as I'm concerned, Ugo has no right to dictate her life or her choices. I have my own agenda, which is to keep her away from this monster, and its success doesn't involve appeasing her abusive fiancé.

"Please, Ettore," she insists, her hand gripping my arm even tighter. "I just want this to end peacefully."

"Peacefully?" I scoff internally. “There's nothing peaceful about what's happening here tonight. "Listen to me, Carlotta." I take her face in my hands, forcing her to look into my eyes. Besides me, Ugo mutters curses at me, angry at how I dared touch his woman. I ignore him. "You need to choose for yourself. You deserve better than a man who puts his hands on you like that."

My words hang in the air between us, heavy with the weight of the decision she must make.

"Please, Ettore," she whispers, her green eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Just tell him.”

“I’ll do no such thing,” I bellow.

In one swift motion, Ugo lunges at me, his fists swinging like wrecking balls, aiming to destroy everything in their path. I sidestep his first punch, feeling the rush of air as it barely misses my face. The centuries of combat training have honed my instincts and reflexes to a razor-sharp edge.

"Is that all you've got?" I taunt him, letting my anger fuel me as I dance around his attacks. My mind races with memories of battles fought long ago, each one adding to my arsenal of skills. “Still haven’t learned your lesson, have you?”

Ugo roars in frustration and redoubles his efforts, his movements growing wilder and more desperate. It's clear he's outmatched, but his wounded pride refuses to accept defeat.

“I’ll deal with you first,” he throws a punch at my chin. I barely feel it. “And then, Carlotta will answer to me.”

"Watch yourself," I growl, my voice low and dangerous as I swing a punch at his stomach. He doubles over, gasping for air and Carlotta lets out a shriek, her breath coming in short, frightened gasps.

“Please stop this, Ettore. Please,” she begs. “He’ll punish me.”

“No one will punish you,” I tell her, keeping my eyes on the bastard in front of me. "Give up, Ugo," I warn him, dodging another one of his wild swings. "This won't end well for you."

"I’ll bloody kill you!" he threatens.

In this moment, I know that there's no turning back. Our conflict has reached a point of no return with those words.

"Then you leave me no choice." I grit my teeth, barging into him with a flurry of punches. As our bodies collide with brutal force, I know that we've crossed a line from which there can be no return. The smell of blood fills the air.

Not mine.

Ugo straightens with a roar, throwing a wild punch. I block it easily, catching his arm and twisting until he grunts in pain. A sharp kick to the back of his knee sends him crashing to the floor.

"Stop!" Carlotta cries. I pin Ugo in place with my boot on his chest, glaring down at his reddened face. He sputters in rage, struggling uselessly against my hold.

"Why should I stop?" I ask softly. "When he would see you chained and bleeding at his feet?" My boot presses deeper into his chest, eliciting a strangled gasp. "You deserve so much better than the likes of him."

Just then, the sound of heavy footsteps approaches, and I glance towards the entrance of the gallery to see my men rushing in, faces contorted with concern. They've heard the commotion and are ready to defend their boss – me.

"Kill him," I command, my voice cold and harsh as ice as I remove my boot. He sits up, sputtering for air.

Without hesitation, they surround Ugo and pull him to his feet, their intention to deliver a painful death clear in the way they clench their fists and narrow their eyes at him.

"Wait! Please!" Carlotta cries out, her voice trembling with fear and desperation. She steps forward, placing herself between Ugo and my men. "Ettore, don't do this. You have to spare his life."

Her emerald eyes meet mine, filled with a desperate intensity that threatens to pierce through the hardened exterior I've built over centuries. It's a vulnerability I haven't allowed myself to feel in a long time, but for her... I find myself hesitating.

For some reason, I don’t want her angry with me. I don’t want her disappointed at my behest.

"Carlotta, he's dangerous. He will hurt you again if I let him live," I argue, trying to reason with her even as my body quivers with rage. I want nothing more than to end Ugo's miserable existence.

Suddenly, there’s a barrage of footsteps and a stream of flashlights around us. “What the hell?” I exclaim, turning back, shielding my eyes from the lights going off all around us.

“Is that Ugo Caputo?” someone screams, turning the cameras to where my men have him.

“Who are those guys?” another yells, asking for information. All around us, these invaders are asking, prying, clicking photos.

“Oh my god,” Carlotta whispers, digging into my hand now. “They’re here.”

“Who?” I inquire, unable to make out anything through the blinding lights.

“The journalists,” Camela whispers. "Please, Ettore," she says now with urgency, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I know what he is, but … but,” I can see her fighting for a reason. “There are people here. They’re all watching. You all could go to jail. Don’t make your men lose their lives for him,” she puts forth a convincing argument. “The cameras will get everything.”

Damn her compassionate heart. It's tearing me apart inside, the conflict between my desire to rip out his eyes, and acknowledge that she speaks the truth. In the end, I find myself relenting, if only to spare my men from time in prison, and protect my family from any disgrace that can land us in trouble.

My men watch me intently, waiting for my command, sheltering their faces from the cameras. Ugo sputters and get to his feet. "Stay out of the papers," I instruct them, my voice firm but measured. "Make sure he poses no immediate threat."

As my men begrudgingly follow my orders, I take Carlotta’s arm in my hand. "Come with me," I tell her softly. Our gazes lock, and everything fades away.