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He releases me, shoving me away with a snarl of disgust. I stumble, my bound hands throwing me off balance, but I don't fall. I won't fall, won't give him the satisfaction of seeing me broken and weak.
Dante turns to his men, his eyes glinting with a mad, sadistic glee. "Bring me a gun," he snaps, his voice cold and imperious. "It's time to end this farce, to put these pathetic creatures out of their misery."
One of the goons steps forward, placing a sleek, black pistol in Dante's outstretched hand. He caresses it like a lover, his fingers stroking over the cold, lethal metal.
"You know, I should thank you, Luca," he says, his voice conversational, almost friendly. "You've given me the perfect opportunity to test my nephew's loyalty, to see just how far he's willing to go for the sake of his precious little whore."
He turns to Enzo, his smile sharp and vicious. "I'm going to give you a choice, nephew. A chance to prove your devotion to the family, to redeem yourself in the eyes of your betters."
He levels the gun at my head, the barrel cold and implacable against my temple. "I'm going to count to three. And when I do...you're going to take this gun, and you're going to put a bullet in your lover's brain. You're going to watch the light fade from his eyes, watch as his blood stains the ground at your feet."
Enzo's eyes widen, a flicker of fear, of horror, cracking through the mask of cold, impassive rage. "No," he whispers, his voice cracking. "No, Dante, please. Don't do this. I'll do anything, be anything you want. Just...just don't hurt him. Don't make me...don't make me kill him."
Dante chuckles, the sound cold and cruel. "Oh, but I am, Enzo. I'm going to make you kill the only thing you've ever loved, the only thing that's ever made you weak. And then, when he's dead and gone...I'm going to mold you into the man you were always meant to be. Cold, ruthless, unstoppable. The perfect weapon, the perfect killer."
He presses the gun into Enzo's hand, his fingers closing around Enzo's, forcing him to take the weight. "One," he says, his voice soft and mocking. "Two..."
"No!" The word tears from my throat, raw and desperate. I surge to my feet, my bound hands straining against the ropes. "No, Enzo, don't do it. Don't let him win, don't let him break you."
Enzo's eyes meet mine, dark and haunted. I can see the war raging behind them, the battle between his love for me and his loyalty to the family, to the dark and twisted world that shaped him.
"Luca," he whispers, my name a broken plea on his lips. "Luca, I...I can't. I can't do it, can't hurt you. You're everything to me, the only good thing I've ever had. The only thing that's ever made me feel...human."
Tears streak his bloody face, cutting through the grime and the gore. "I love you," he says, his voice cracking. "I love you so much it hurts, so much it feels like I'm dying every second I'm not with you. And I...I can't live in a world without you in it. Can't go back to being the monster I was, the soulless beast that Dante wants me to be."
I nod, my own tears blurring my vision. "I know," I whisper, my heart breaking. "I know, Enzo. And I love you too, more than anything. More than my own life, my own soul."
I straighten my spine, my chin lifting in defiance. "But I won't let you do this. Won't let you damn yourself, let you become the thing you hate, the thing you fear. I won't let Dante win, won't let him twist our love into something ugly and cruel."
I turn to Dante, my eyes blazing with a fierce, unwavering light. "You're wrong about him," I say, my voice steady and strong. "You're wrong about us. Our love isn't a weakness, isn't a liability. It's a strength, a power that you can't possibly understand."
I take a step forward, my head high, my heart thundering in my chest. "Enzo is a good man," I say, my voice ringing out in the silence. "A brave man, a strong man. A man who's seen the worst the world has to offer, who's done terrible things in the name of survival. But he's also a man who's capable of great love, of great sacrifice. A man who would die for the ones he loves, who would tear the world apart to keep them safe."
I meet Dante's gaze, unflinching. "And that's why you'll never break him. Why you'll never win. Because he has something you don't, something you can never take away."
I smile, a fierce, defiant thing. "He has me. And I...I have faith in him. Faith in us, in the love that binds us together. And I will fight for that love, for that faith...until my last breath, my last heartbeat."
Dante's face twists, a mask of rage and disgust. "Insolent whelp," he snarls, his hand tightening on the gun. "You dare defy me, dare challenge my authority? I will teach you the true meaning of pain, of suffering. I will break you, shatter you, until there is nothing left but a hollow shell, a broken husk of a man."
He levels the gun at my head, his finger tightening on the trigger. "Say goodbye to your precious love, little mouse. Say goodbye to the light, to the hope that you cling to so desperately."
I close my eyes, a strange sense of peace settling over me. This is it. The end, the final curtain. But I'm not afraid. Not anymore.
Because I know, with a bone-deep certainty, that Enzo will not let me die. That he will fight for me, for us, with every ounce of strength, every shred of will.
That he will tear apart heaven and hell, move mountains and part seas...to keep me safe, to bring me home.
I hear the click of the trigger, the sharp, deadly sound of a bullet chambered. And then...
Chaos. A roar of fury, a blur of motion. Enzo, surging to his feet, his eyes blazing with a wild, desperate light. He slams into Dante, the gun skittering across the floor, and then they're grappling, a tangle of fists and blood and snarling, animalistic rage.
I lunge for the gun, my bound hands scrabbling on the concrete. I feel the cold metal beneath my fingers, the weight of it in my palm, and then I'm rising, the world narrowing to a single, crystalline point.
Dante, his hands wrapped around Enzo's throat, squeezing, choking the life from him. Enzo, his face purple, his eyes bulging, his hands clawing weakly at Dante's wrists.
And me. The baker, the civilian, the innocent. The man who's never held a gun, never taken a life.
The man who's about to become a killer, to stain his hands with blood...for the sake of love, for the sake of the man who holds his heart.
