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The Don’s Soulmate 32. Ettore 52%
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32. Ettore

Chapter 32

Ettore

I feel Carlotta's warm breath on the back of my neck, her body fighting to come by my side but I have one arm outstretched, shielding her, and the other with the gun pointed straight ahead.

The three guards before us have their own guns pointed at me, their eyes hard and merciless. I must protect her at all costs, and that means acting before backup arrives.

I don't hesitate, squeezing the trigger and dropping the middle guard with a clean headshot. I hear Carlotta scream, a loud, piercing sound. The others freeze in momentary shock, guns wavering, as they both jerk to stare at the man in the middle, now dead. My opportunity. I lash out with a sweeping roadhouse kick, knocking the pistol from one guard's grip. As he stumbles back, I pivot into a reverse spin, my heel spinning towards the other guard, landing a reverse spin kick square in his chest. His body slams against a nearby tree, knocking him unconscious. He crumples without a sound.

Only one left standing now. The remaining guard gathers his wits, raising his gun with shaking hands. I rush him before he can fire, grabbing his wrist and twisting violently. He cries out, falling to his knees, the weapon falling uselessly away and I kick it far away.

I look back to see if Carlotta’s alright. She’s standing there frozen like a deer in the headlights, ashen white.

Her eyes flicker to something behind me. I turn, to see the guard standing now. He lunges at me, his eyes filled with rage.

"Come on, bastardo," I taunt, inviting him to make the first move. He takes the bait, throwing a wild punch in my direction. I duck, letting his fist sail past me before countering with a sharp jab to his midsection. He doubles over, gasping for air, but recovers quickly and retaliates with a powerful kick aimed at my head.

I narrowly dodge the blow, feeling the wind from his strike ruffle my hair.

"Give up," I laugh, landing another well-placed punch to his jaw. "You're outmatched."

"Never!" he spits, blood trickling down his chin. The two of us continue our brutal dance, fists flying, sweat dripping. But with every blow I land, I can feel his strength waning, his desperation growing.

In the heat of battle, a desperate scream pierces the air - Carlotta's voice. I whip my head around to find her being dragged away by two more guards, a look of desperate fright on her face as her eyes scream at me to help. The sight fills me with an unparalleled fury, to see their dirty, wretched hands on her writhing, struggling body and I know that I need her by my side.

I can’t be ripped away from her.

"Carlotta!" I shout, channeling all my rage into one final strike. My fist connects with the guard's temple, and he crumples to the ground, unconscious.

"Let her go!" I roar, my vision tunneling as I barrel towards the men holding Carlotta. Her eyes meet mine; her hands fight to stretch out towards me. And suddenly, a memory gushes back. From before earth was as it is. We are whole, and my body is contorted in ways unnatural, my bones screeching as they rip from one another, my heart shattering into two and I feel that death would be a mercy and suddenly, I am not whole. There’s a ‘we’, something a called a woman and she is me, reaching out with her arms to be reunited, but a flash of lightening, and she’s gone. I’ve been looking for her, and now, these men threaten to take her away from me?

My soulmate.

The fire inside me blazes hotter, knowing that she is my everything.

"We’re taking her to Ugo!" One of the guards snarls, tightening his grip on Carlotta's arm.

"Touch her again, and I'll break your fingers," I threaten, advancing on them like a predator stalking its prey.

"Try it!" The other guard taunts, yanking Carlotta closer to him.

With a guttural growl, I surge forward and grab the first guard's wrist, twisting it until I hear the satisfying crack of bones breaking. His anguished scream is music to my ears as I release him, leaving him writhing on the forest floor. I bend down, grab his gun. The second guard hesitates, his eyes darting between me and the injured man.

“For touching her,” I say in a voice so cold, the forest must feel it. And then, bang.

He’s dead, the soil fused with his blood.

But there's no time to savor this small victory. Carlotta trembles beside me, her breathing ragged from fear. My heart clenches at the sight of her distress.

"Are you okay?" I ask, reaching out to gently brush her hair back from her face, before taking her into my arms.

"Y-yes," she stammers, clinging to my chest, tears dripping down her eyes. "I was so scared, Ettore. I thought they’d take me to him."

“Never,” I whisper hoarsely, grabbing her chin and taking her lips in mine. I wonder, does she know…?

Who we are? What we share?

Perhaps not, and in time, she will.

But for now, “we must go, my love,” I whisper against her lips, pulling away. She nods, touching her lips.

As if on cue, we hear the sound of more men crashing through the undergrowth, their shouts growing louder as they close in on us. I grab Carlotta's hand and pull her along, my grip tight and unyielding. We sprint through the forest together, our hearts pounding in sync, our souls entwined, fighting to survive this life long enough to see an end to this curse.

"Over there!" I spot my car hidden among the trees. I yank open the car door, and my nostrils fill with the tang of copper. The driver's lifeless eyes stare back at me, a bullet lodged in his forehead. I clench my jaw, the rage bubbling inside me like molten lava. There's no time to dwell on it, though. We need to move.

""Mi dispiace per questo,” - sorry about this - I mutter, saying a silent, swift prayer in my head to bring him peace, before pushing the corpse out of the seat and onto the ground before sliding behind the wheel. Carlotta watches silently, her face ashen as she stares at the man’s face.

“He… he,” she trembles.

"Get in!" I shout, pushing Carlotta towards the passenger side. She scrambles into the car, her green eyes wide with terror. I slide behind the wheel, the engine roaring to life as I slam my foot down on the gas pedal.

"Where are we going?" Carlotta asks, her voice trembling.

"I don’t know, somewhere safe," I promise, my knuckles white as I grip the steering wheel. We barrel down the road, leaving Ugo's men behind us. For now, at least.

The car's speakerphone crackles to life, and one of my men updates me on the situation. "Boss, the stolen art is secure. We're doing our best to shake off Ugo's convoy. We’ve got a decoy," they inform me. “We should be in the clear soon.

"Keep me posted," I order, swerving around a bend in the road. “And Martino was killed at the hideout spot. Give him the burial he deserves,” I end the call.

My thoughts race as fast as the engine's roar. If we can just get the artwork to safety, that’s one problem solved. But what then? What kind of future can there be for Carlotta and me, two souls tethered together by fate but torn apart by circumstance?

Her father will never allow us to be together. And would she dare defy him when all she suffers, she does so for him? I need time to think, to claim my stake and see her by my side.

"Is there something you're not telling me?" Carlotta's voice slices through my thoughts, her gaze locked on mine.

"Carlotta, I…"

"Tell me, Ettore," she demands, her green eyes blazing with determination.

"I was thinking," I reply, keeping my eyes on the darkness ahead. "You can't go home now, not with Ugo's men watching your every move. The first place they’ll go is to your house."

"But my father…" She hesitates, wringing her hands together. "He’ll be furious.”

"Let him be angry," I say, my voice firm. "If you return now, Ugo will think you're unafraid of your father, and that weakens your father’s power over you in Ugo’s eyes. Ugo might even believe that your father is playing him and was a part of tonight’s heist simply to help you call off the wedding. By staying away, you're ensuring your father's safety for now because Ugo will see your father’s wrath when he sends people to hunt you down. Ugo will come to view him as an ally once again and they’ll work together to get you back. Your father will be safe, as long as he hunts for you."

The words taste like ash in my mouth, but I know it's the only course of action we can take. What I don't tell her is that I want her for myself, for however long I can have her.

Carlotta frowns, processing my words, then nods slowly. "You're right, I can't go back,” she murmurs, her voice sounding more resolute than I've ever heard it before.

In this moment, I realize just how much she trusts me. This wallflower, raised to not trust her enemies, is putting her future in my hands. I can’t let her down.

"Carlotta," I say softly, our eyes meeting once more. "No matter what happens, remember that I will always protect you."

"Promise?" she asks, her voice wavering.

"Until my very last breath," I vow, sealing our fates together with those simple words. She flushes at my words, her eyes frozen on my face, and then she smiles.

"We need to find somewhere safe," she says calmly. "Somewhere Ugo won't think to look. But where?"

“We have to disappear,” I tell her. “I think I have a plan, but first, we need to abandon my car which can be traced, and steal one.”

To my surprise, she breaks into a roar of laughter. I look over at her, confused and through her tears, she manages to choke out something about how we’re the new Bonnie and Clyde.

I have no idea what she means, but I take it to mean something good.

We drive over twenty miles, before we reach a car parked at the corner of a house. As I pull up our car right behind it, I cut the engine and we sit in silence for a moment.

“That’s the car,” I tell her, pointing ahead. “It’s manual, old, chunky. No one will place us in it, or care to trace if it’s stolen.”

“But,” she sighs, “what about the owners?”

Now this is the real Carlotta. Fifteen minutes ago, she was laughing and explaining the world’s most notorious bandits to me, and now, she’s worried for the owners?

“Don’t worry, cara mia,” I say, shaking my head with a smile. “I’ll leave them some cash on the bonnet of my car. I believe they might even appreciate the exchange.”

“If you say so,” she looks doubtful. Damn it, if the situation wasn’t so dire, I swear she’s capable of giving me a conscious.

But right now, all I care for is our survival.

“Come,” I say, leading her out of the car. “Mind if you give me your clip?”

With wide eyes, she lets her hair loose around her shoulders. The world slows down, taking every curl as it floats down her back. Her face looks smaller, almost child-like and innocent with her hair like that.

“Ettore?” she whispers, her eyes motioning at the clip.

Right. Now is not the time to daydream.

I take the clip and loosen it to act like a pin. Swiftly, I insert the pin into the lock and twist it. The door creaks open, revealing the torn interior of the car.

"Come," I say, taking her hand and settling her in. I’m about to get into my seat when I remember what I’m forgetting.

I take out my wallet and walk back to my car to leave a stack of cash on the hood, my promised exchange.

To Carlotta, a word given is an act considered done.

***

Up ahead, the lights of a ramshackle inn appear through the trees. It will have to do for now. I pull up the long dirt drive and kill the engine, peering into the gloom for any signs of life.

"Wait here while I check us in," I tell Carlotta. She looks uneasy but doesn't argue.

I step out, senses alert for danger. The night wraps around me like a cloak as I stride toward the inn's weathered door.

Inside, an ancient clerk blinks at me from behind the counter. I pay him in cash for a room, a little extra for no questions asked.

With rusty keys in hand, I hurry back to Carlotta. Our haven, however humble, awaits.

I slide back into the driver's seat, keys jangling in my hand. "We're set. I got us a room in the back."

Carlotta nods, relief flickering in her eyes. I know she's exhausted - it's been a harrowing night.

As I pull the car around the inn's crumbling facade to park it right, she speaks up softly. "Ettore...there's something you should know."

I glance at her. "What is it?"

She takes a breath. "When I was Ugo's prisoner, I overheard him giving orders. He's sending assassins after you, Ettore. It’s three brothers at your heels. I’m sorry I don’t remember their names. You're in danger."

Of course, she doesn’t know I’m already privy to this little bit of information. What touches me most in this moment is her unwavering loyalty. Even with all that’s happened, she remembers to warn me.

“You,” I turn to touch her cheek, and she leans into my palm, her eyelashes fluttering against my fingers. “Have nothing to apologize for. I know these men. Let them come.”

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