The Don’s Soulmate

49. Ettore

Chapter 49

Ettore

A shattering of glass and the unmistakable sound of a bullet piercing through the air force me into action. My heart thuds in my chest, anger and adrenaline pumping through my veins as I quickly assess the situation. There’s no one outside - where are the bullets coming from?

When I let them know we’re fighting against someone in the dark, Carlotta's eyes widen with fear, and Sofia's grip on her arm tightens.

"Carlotta, Sofia, get behind the couch now!" I bark, the urgency drifting words out faster than I can think them. They obey without question, trembling forms disappearing. "Stay there and don't make a sound."

I stride towards the door, every muscle in my body tense, prepared for whatever awaits me on the other side. The darkness is thick, but my senses are heightened.

"Show yourself, you coward," I mutter under my breath, scanning the area for any movement or glint of metal. Moonlight filters through the trees, casting eerie shadows that confuse the hell out of me, making me see things that don’t exist. My mind races, trying to piece together who our attacker might be.

The wind howls around me, taunting me as I search for the attacker. I find no trace of him or them in the immediate vicinity. My frustration mounts, my anger threatening to boil over. Then, I spot something—a pair of single tracks leading away from the scene, disappearing into the depths of the forest. I study the prints, memories of hunting from a previous life fresh in my mind. Large boots, a man. Built over six feet. Strong. Capable.

Well, at least it’s only one person.

"Got you," I growl under my breath. I follow the tracks with razor-sharp senses, focused on a singular objective – to hunt down this intruder and make him regret ever shooting in the direction of my soulmate, the mother of my soon-to-be-born child.

I delve deeper into the forest, the tendrils of the branches reaching out like ghostly fingers, hitting against my face. I wince at every rustle of leaves and snap of twigs beneath my feet. I must move slower, quieter.

The tracks become more distinct, my prey unaware that I’ve come to hunt. I clench my fists, the cold night air biting at my knuckles, but I barely feel it.

I feel a sudden shift in the air, a prickling sensation at the back of my neck. There. A snapping twig ahead, the sharp report of sound in this quiet place. I freeze in place, peering into the gloom and know I've found him.

Gotcha! I spot the silhouette of the attacker lurking behind a tree. He's watching the hut from afar, a sinister smirk plastered on his face.

"Give it up," I call out, my voice a low snarl brimming with menace. "You're not getting away."

He spins around, eyes wide with panic before quickly narrowing into slits. Without hesitation, he lunges at me, brandishing a gun. My instincts kick in, and I disarm him with a swift strike to his forearm, causing the weapon to clatter to the ground.

"Is that all you’ve got?" I taunt, kicking the gun deep into the underbrush, my blood boiling with rage as we clash in a fierce fistfight. He lands a hit to my jaw, sending a jolt of pain through me. I stagger back, blood rushing in my ears. I crouch down, reverse jump and kick him in the shins.

He stumbles, and I seize the opportunity to slam my fist into his stomach. The air whooshes out of him, doubling him over. I pin him to the ground, my face inches from his.

"Who sent you?" I demand between punches, my mind racing with questions and suspicions. The man merely laughs, spitting blood onto the forest floor before prying his fingers into my eyes.

“Fuck,” I scream out loud, pulling away from his assault. I wince, rubbing my eyes and hear him jump to his feet.

"Like I'd tell you," he sneers, walking closer. I sidestep his next attack, kicking him in his lower back and sending him tumbling forward.

"Wrong answer," I snap, my patience wearing thin. At that moment, however, he manages to find his footing and bolts towards the hut, desperation fueling his movements.

"Carlotta! Sofia!" I roar, terror seizing my heart as I sprint after him. The thought of them being harmed…no, I can’t even let that possibility out into the universe. I refuse to let that happen.

"Get back here!" I bellow, my legs pumping furiously, kicking up dirt and leaves as I race after the attacker. "You won't get away with this!"

My heart hammers in my chest as I skid to a stop outside the hut, relief washing over me at the sight of Carlotta and Sofia waiting there, concern etched on their faces. They must have heard the screams and come out to check on me.

"Are you alright?" Carlotta asks, her green eyes wide with fear. "What's happening?"

"Stay back," I warn them, looking around. Then, my gaze locks on the attacker, who is now cornered between us and the hut, hiding behind a tree. There's no escape for him now. He refuses to go down without a fight; his breathing labored as he brandishes a knife, its blade glinting in the moonlight.

"Who are you?" Sofia demands, her voice trembling. "Why are you doing this?"

"Stand back, Sof," I growl, my muscles tensing as I prepare to strike. "He won't hurt you."

"Please, Ettore," Carlotta pleads, her hand reaching out to touch my arm. "Don't do anything reckless."

I glance at her briefly, the concern in her eyes reminding me I must survive. But I can't sit back, not when my baby’s life - our lives - are at stake. I turn back to face the attacker, every fiber of my being focused on taking him down.

"Last chance," I snarl. "Tell me who sent you, and maybe I'll let you live."

The man smirks, lunging towards me with the knife. I sidestep his attack and grab his wrist, twisting it until he cries out in pain and drops the weapon. My other hand shoots out, gripping his throat, and I squeeze, watching the life drain from his eyes.

"Wrong choice," I whisper, rage and adrenaline surging through my veins. “Sofia, the knife.”

Sofia rushes forward, bends down and takes the knife, handing it to me. “Tell me,” I say, my hand still on his throat, choking him. “I will let you live.”

He spits in my face. In an instant, I slit his throat, the thin knife leaving two folds of beautifully cut skin, the blood running down his neck, down my arm. Carlotta gasps, and Sofia stands frozen, watching as the man's body goes limp. I drop him to the ground, my chest heaving with exertion.

Carlotta and Sofia stare at me, their eyes wide with a mix of fear and awe. I feel a pang of guilt for exposing them to such violence, but there was no choice. It was kill or be killed.

"Are you okay?" I ask them, my voice rough and laced with concern.

"We're fine," Sofia says, her voice shaky but determined. "But what do we do now? We can’t just leave a body out here.”

"We bury him," I instruct, my gaze flicking between them as I try to gauge their reactions. “And pretend he was never here.”

The moon hangs high, casting a light over the foliage. We stand around the shallow grave, shovels in hand. I watch Carlotta try to lift the shovel, her belly protruding and her back aching from the strain. Sofia and I exchange glances, an unspoken agreement between us.

“Not you,” I say as Sofia, ever the loyal friend, takes the shovel from Carlotta’s hand and drops it to the ground.

"But I can handle it," Carlotta replies firmly, a spark of defiance in her green eyes as she eyes the shovel, about to bend to get it.

"Lo so che puoi, cara. Ma per favore, lasciaci..." - I know you can darling, but please let us handle it - I say, with amusement: my tigress, ever the fighter.

"Alright," she concedes, knowing there's no arguing with Sofia and I when we present a united front.

The two of us begin to dig, the rhythmic sound of shovels filling the air.

As we work, I can't help but steal glances at Carlotta, my mind running in every direction, thinking of all the things that could have gone wrong tonight. After generations of losing my soulmate, I found her and have her by my side long enough to know the connection we share. I haven’t told her yet, but if she succeeds in having our child, our generational curse could at last be broken.

It’s a heavy burden, a secret I carry alone, for I need Carlotta to have a strong mind to survive this pregnancy and birth without medical care from outside. And so, I must work extra hard to make sure she reaches the due date safely.

That’s our only chance at lasting joy.

"Almost done," Sofia says, sweat glistening on her brow. She wipes it away with the back of her hand. The three of us stand around the grave, looking down at the lifeless body of the attacker. It's a grotesque task, but there’s no way around it.

Before we start covering the body with sand, I take one last look at his face, and something clicks into place. He bears a striking resemblance to the first assassin who came for us – the same cold, dead eyes and a similar cruel sneer. It dawns on me that he must be one of the three assassins sent to hunt us down.

"Carlotta, Sofia," I say, keeping my voice steady despite the realization weighing heavily on me. "This man is one of the trio at our heels. We need to be even more vigilant now."

"Who are the other two?" Sofia asks, fear creeping into her voice.

"I only know their names and not their faces," I admit. "Vittorio. Leandro. Gianlo. We killed one at the grocery store, and now him."

“One more to go,” Carlotta says fiercely.

Sofia and I finish covering the body.

A cool breeze whispers through the trees, ruffling my hair as I look out at the silver light. My thoughts race with the urgency of our situation, and I know we cannot afford to linger any longer.

"Listen," I begin, my voice firm, "we can't stay here. It's too risky. There's a chance he warned someone and our location is compromised."

Sofia frowns, her sharp wit giving way to concern. "You may be right, Ettore. But where do we go from here?"

"Anywhere but here," I reply, my gaze flicking between the two women. "We'll find another place to hide, somewhere they won't expect us to be. Another motel, perhaps."

Carlotta clutches her pregnant belly, her mind only on the baby. She nods in agreement. "Tonight, we leave."

“I’ve got enough cash with me to cover two or three weeks’ stay somewhere cheap,” Sofia agrees. “I’ll check you in and then come back with more when the time is right.”

"Thank you. Let's pack up and leave as soon as possible," I say, my voice low and urgent. "The less time we waste, the better our chances of staying ahead."