The Don’s Soulmate

27. Carlotta

Chapter 27

Carlotta

I'm still reeling from his declaration of fate being the reason for his loyalty. Protection for my family, for me, seems like an impossibility, a dream too good to be true. Yet, the hope it brings me is undeniable. A chance to escape this twisted fate with Ugo, to break free from the suffocating grip he has on my life.

"Think about it, Carlotta," Ettore says, his cold blue eyes locked onto mine. "I can give you what you need."

Hope blossoms in my heart, so sweet it's almost painful.

But could I really trust it will all work out?

Ettore cocks his head, studying me. My courage wavers under that piercing stare, and I struggle to find the words. What would the consequences be of this decision? My family might be safe, but they will also be penniless.

Dare I ask for more? A loan to help them establish a new business? Ettore’s father wouldn’t allow it.

Besides, Ugo has more power than just the threat he poses to our livelihood, and consequently, security. He holds the history of the world in his dark basement.

Not to forget, how can I trust a stranger like Ettore? What if he betrays us?

But, another voice in my head screams at me to cast aside these fears. He might be a stranger in many ways, but in the most important, I feel like I know him in my bones. That mark we share, has to mean something.

It’s not as simple as running away, with so much at stake. I need to know more, ask more of him. Yet, I part my lips but remain silent, fearing there might be a boundary to his aid.

Suddenly, the bathroom door slams open with a loud bang. My heart leaps into my throat as I see a masked man wielding a machete burst into the room. His brown eyes are cold and menacing, so sinister that I etch them to my mind. Ettore's grip on my arm tightens as he positions himself between me and the attacker.

"Get behind me," Ettore growls, his voice low and dangerous. His body tenses, ready to spring into action at a moment's notice.

The attacker lunges toward us, swinging the machete wildly. I gasp, frozen with terror, but Ettore moves with lightning speed, pushing me back against the wall.

My heart leaps into my throat as he charges straight for Ettore. With lightning reflexes, Ettore pivots and blocks the downward swing of the blade. He delivers a vicious kick to the attacker's stomach, sending him stumbling back. But the man recovers quickly, slashing at Ettore again and again.

Ettore deftly evades each swipe, his movements smooth and controlled like a dance. It's as if Ettore has done this a thousand times before, his body instinctively reacting to the danger around him. I can’t keep my eyes off him, the way his muscles flex beneath his clothes, the fierce determination in his eyes.

It’s like I see him for the very first time, and instantly feel that in his arms, I’d always be safe.

He ducks under a wide arc of the machete, then springs up to elbow the man in the face. The mask cracks under the blow.

The attacker roars and swings wildly, but Ettore catches his wrist in an iron grip. With a sharp twist, he wrenches the machete free and tosses it aside. It clatters across the tiled floor.

Weaponless now, the man charges forward to grapple Ettore. They crash into the counter, exchanging furious blows. Ettore drives his knee up into the man's gut once, twice. The attacker doubles over with a choked grunt.

In a blur of motion, Ettore grabs him by the collar and slams his head down onto the granite countertop. The man's body goes limp, collapsing to the floor.

Ettore stands over him, chest heaving. He looks utterly unruffled despite the ferocious fight, not a single hair out of place. I can only stare in awe at this lethal yet elegant display of his combat skills.

He turns to me, breathless. “Are you okay?” he asks, stepping towards me.

I still stare at the man on the floor, the blood on the sinks. My heart is racing so hard, I’m afraid it might stop.

“Carlotta?” Ettore screams now, in my face, his hands gripping at my arms. He shakes me, forcing me to look at him. “Are you okay?”

Pure, unadulterated concern. No one has ever looked at me this way. “It is I who should be asking you if you’re okay,” I manage to choke out, drowning in the depths of his blues.

But just then, I hear something. A soft rustle. Ettore is still looking at me, but my eyes flicker to the ground. He’s no longer lying down. Fear grips me as I see the attacker on his feet, and a sliver of silver in his hand. He’s pulled out a gun.

“Ettore…” I whisper, my eyes transfixed at the danger behind him. My hands tremble as I fumble for my purse, adrenaline coursing through my veins. I dig out the small canister of pepper spray attached to my keychain.

“Behind you,” I scream, just as the masked man charges at Ettore again with a guttural yell, undeterred by the beating he's taken. My heart leaps into my throat as the attacker aims his gun directly at Ettore's chest. This madman means to kill him.

In a blur of motion, Ettore surges forward and knocks the gun upward. The bullet shatters the light fixture above in a shower of glass and sparks.

Seeing an opening, I rush forward and spray a jet of pepper spray right into the attacker's eyes. He howls in surprise and pain, hands flying up to claw at his face.

Ettore doesn't hesitate. He delivers a brutal front kick that catches the man in the solar plexus. The attacker crumples to the floor, writhing and groaning.

Ettore tucks the gun into his waistband and offers me his hand. "Let's get out of here."

I take it, my own hands shaking. He leads me out of the destroyed bathroom and down the dark hallway. My heels crunch on broken glass, until we find our way back to the bustling nightclub.

Satisfied we aren't being followed and knowing we’re safe amongst all these people, he turns to me in the crowd, shouting to be heard over the music. "Are you alright?"

I manage a jerky nod. "Just...shaken up. You were amazing in there."

A ghost of a smile touches his lips. "Nothing without you, ace."

He brushes a strand of hair back from my face, his touch gentle despite the violence he's capable of. I find myself breathless, struck again by the contradiction of this complex man.