Blood and Chains
The warehouse stank of oil and fear. Elena's chest heaved as she knelt on the cold concrete floor, her mother's sobs tearing into her soul. Dante stood before them like a dark king, his hands clasped behind his back, his eyes glittering with cruel amusement.
"You said you'd do anything," he drawled, pacing slowly. "Now prove it."
Elena swallowed hard, her pulse racing. "What do you want?"
Dante stopped in front of her, lowering his voice to a serpent's hiss. "I want you to betray him."
Her stomach dropped. "What?"
"You'll call Lucian," Dante said, crouching so his face was inches from hers. His smile was razor-sharp. "You'll tell him to come here. Alone. You'll beg him to trust you. And when he walks through that door, I'll end him."
Elena's blood froze. The thought of leading Lucian to slaughter ripped through her like a blade. She shook her head violently. "No. I won't."
Dante's expression hardened. He snapped his fingers. The guard pressed the knife tighter against her mother's throat. A thin line of blood welled where the blade kissed skin.
Elena screamed. "Stop! Please!"
Dante tilted his head, savoring her agony. "One life for another. Your mother… or your husband. Choose wisely, Elena. Either way, you'll watch someone you love bleed because of you."
---
Across the city, Lucian's car screeched around a corner, tires screaming against asphalt. His convoy of black SUVs thundered behind him, headlights slicing the night. He gripped the wheel with one hand, his gun clenched in the other, his jaw locked with fury.
"Trace the signal again!" he barked.
One of his lieutenants answered through the comms. "Boss, we've narrowed it to the eastern warehouses by the river. Sector three."
Lucian's eyes burned like fire. "Dante," he growled. "He's got her."
For a moment, fear cracked through his armor. Not for himself. For Elena. For the possibility she might already be broken, used, or worse. His chest tightened, rage feeding into a primal vow.
"Hold the perimeter," he ordered. "No one touches her but me."
---
Back in the warehouse, Elena's hands shook violently. Her mother's cries were muffled by the gag again, but her terrified eyes screamed louder than words.
Dante crouched beside Elena, his voice a venomous whisper. "Do you see now? Lucian's love is a curse. It drags you into his war, makes you collateral in battles you never asked for. But I can end it. Call him. End this tonight."
Elena's throat burned with unshed tears. She wanted to scream, to fight, to claw at Dante until there was nothing left but blood. But she was powerless—two guards restrained her arms, her mother's life balanced on a blade.
And yet, even through the terror, her heart whispered a truth she couldn't deny: she trusted Lucian. He was more than fire, more than destruction. He was survival itself.
Her lips parted. "I won't betray him."
Dante's smile faltered, replaced with icy rage. He straightened, gesturing sharply. The guard drew the blade back, preparing to slice.
"Then your mother dies screaming."
"NO!" Elena's voice cracked, raw with desperation.
At that moment, the steel doors of the warehouse exploded inward.
Gunfire shattered the silence, echoing like thunder. Shards of metal and splinters of wood rained down as Lucian stormed inside, flanked by his men. His eyes locked instantly on Elena, and for a heartbeat, the world stopped.
"Elena!" His roar shook the rafters.
Dante cursed, yanking Elena upright by her arm. He pressed a pistol against her temple, dragging her back like a shield. "One more step, Moretti, and she dies!"
Lucian froze, his gun raised, his men spreading out behind him. His chest heaved with raw fury, every muscle straining to tear Dante apart, but his finger stayed off the trigger. His eyes, burning and feral, never left Elena's face.
"Elena," he growled, his voice breaking. "I'm here. I'll get you out."
She shook her head faintly, her tears glistening. "Lucian… he has Mama."
Lucian's gaze flicked, catching sight of the older woman bound and bleeding on the floor. His jaw tightened. One wrong move, and two women he loved could die in front of him.
Dante laughed darkly. "This is beautiful, isn't it? The devil himself, brought to his knees by love. Tell me, Lucian… how does it feel to finally be human?"
Lucian's grip on the gun tightened. His voice was steel wrapped in fire. "Let them go, Dante. I'll give you the death you've been begging for."
But Dante only pressed the gun harder against Elena's temple. "No, no, no. You don't give the orders here. Tonight, you watch her bleed."
Time slowed. Elena's heart pounded as Lucian's eyes met hers. She saw the storm there—the war between restraint and rage, between the man who wanted to save her and the beast who wanted to slaughter Dante.
And then, in the silence between heartbeats, Elena made her choice.
Her elbow shot back, slamming into Dante's ribs. He grunted, loosening his grip. She twisted, dropping low as the gun fired, the bullet searing past her ear.
Lucian moved like lightning. His shot cracked through the air, hitting Dante's shoulder and spinning him back.
Chaos erupted. Lucian's men opened fire, Dante's guards fell one by one, and the warehouse exploded into violence.
Elena scrambled to her mother, ripping the gag free, sobbing as she tried to untie the ropes. "Mama, hold on—"
Lucian carved through the fight like a predator unleashed, his every step leaving bodies in his wake. His eyes never left Dante, who staggered behind a stack of crates, clutching his bleeding shoulder.
"MORETTI!" Dante screamed, blood dripping from his lips. "This isn't over!"
Lucian's roar shook the rafters. "It ends tonight!"
He charged, gun blazing, as Elena shielded her mother, praying desperately that the man she loved would survive his own fury.