I Saved the Mafia Boss—Now I'm His Obsession. novel Chapter 50

Adriano

⫘☠︎︎⫘

The halls reeked of bleach and innocence. Posters lined the walls, anti-bullying campaigns, science fair announcements, smiling kids with their perfect teeth.

Dante stood at the front gate dressed like a maintenance contractor, clipboard in hand, fake badge clipped to his chest, flirting with the female security guard. She laughed too loud. The poor girl didn’t realize she just signed the death certificate of her job.

Raphael was already inside. Cafeteria worker uniform, hairnet and all, blending in with the kitchen rats who thought their greatest daily danger was a grease burn. He'd cut the security feed five minutes ago. No one knew we were here yet.

I adjusted the black gloves on my hands as I stepped out of the delivery truck, stretched my neck, and rolled my shoulders until I heard the pop.

It was a Catholic prep school, elite as fuck. Red brick, ivy vines, too much funding. The place where Remo sent his bastard sister to keep her out of the headlines.

Too bad he forgot who I was.

He didn’t just cross a line, he torched it. Took the names of our women, not just one. All of them. Alessia. Claire. Allegra. And if that wasn’t enough, he reached for Madeleine, my sunshine.

Now?

Now it’s open fucking season.

Fair game, motherfucker.

I moved fast. Through the side door, already opened for me by Raphael. He handed me a keycard and a silenced pistol wrapped in a brown paper lunch bag like we were just trading sandwiches.

“She’s in Room 203. Top floor. Literature class,” he said.

“Let’s make this quick,” I replied. “I’ve got a body count quota to meet today.”

I slipped through the hall with my back straight. I didn’t run. I stalked. Kids passed me without a glance. Just another adult in a building full of them.

Until a teacher noticed me, middle-aged, bushy beard, eyes full of concern. He raised a finger. “Sir, can I hel—”

I moved fast.

One step in, palm to his throat. Another to the temple. He dropped like a sack of bricks, crumpling against the lockers with a dull thud.

He hit the floor like a sack of bones. The bell rang overhead. Kids poured out of classrooms like cattle, laughing, texting, buzzing.

Perfect.

I moved with them, right up the stairs and right to Room 203.

I paused outside the door. One breath in and the opened the door.

Twenty pairs of teenage eyes turned to me. One pair matched Remo’s, caramel-colored, but where his held malice, hers were wide with innocence and curiosity.

Not for long.

“You,” I said, grinning as I walked in, “Are coming with me.”

She blinked, confused. “Who the hell are—”

“Wrong tone, princess.”

I grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her forward. The skinny little girl flew out of her seat with ease. The teacher shouted, a few kids stood.

Raphael burst in through the back door, gun drawn, “Everyone sit the fuck down or I start collecting ears.”

They listened, they were kids, of course they did. No one expects death in the middle of Shakespeare.

The teacher tried to be a hero. I jammed my knee into his gut, spun him around, and cracked his head against the whiteboard. Blood sprayed across the conjugated verb list.

Dante was already outside in the getaway car. Black SUV, engine running, windows tinted.

I dragged her down the hall as she kicked and screamed. “Let me go! Who are you?!”

“Ask your brother,” I muttered, tightening my grip, her shoes skidding on the tile.

She clawed at my wrist, kicked at my shins, twisted her body with wild, furious strength. “Let me go! Who the hell are you?!” she shrieked, breath ragged with panic.

I gripped her with one hand—just one—and it was enough. My palm closed around her upper arm. Her tiny frame jolted with every step I took, legs scrambling, rage pouring out of her in half-formed curses and spitfire screams.

She swung at me, nails aiming for my face. I tilted my head slightly and she missed.

“Keep fighting,” I muttered, “Burn the energy now, sweetheart. You don't need it later.”

She snarled something incoherent and bit down on my hand hard and I smiled but kept walking. We hit the stairwell and a guard spotted us.

Dumb bastard, I didn't want to kill anyone here.

He pulled his gun, I shot him twice, once in the neck, once in the eye. He dropped, twitching. Blood splattered across the staircase railing. By the time we got to the ground floor, the alarms were screaming, red lights, pure fucking chaos.

Raphael tossed a flashbang over his shoulder.

BOOM.

The world went white behind us as we shoved through the back door.

I threw her in the SUV. She twisted mid-air, wild as a feral cat, and her nails raked across my cheek on the way down.

The sting came a second later and blood bloomed under my skin. And all I could think was... How the fuck am I gonna explain this scratch to Madeleine?

Not the kidnapping.

Not the screaming girl in the backseat.

Just the fucking scratch.

Dante peeled off with tires screaming down the lot, gunfire cracking behind us. Some dumbass had found his courage too late. I fired one round through the back window just to send a message, shattering glass and pride.

Inside the SUV, she thrashed like a demon, knees flying, mouth spitting curses. Raphael grabbed both her wrists and yanked her forward, giving her a hard shake, just enough to snap the hysteria.

“Get your head straight,” he growled.

She froze, chest heaving, hair a mess across her face. When he let go, her voice came out in a small, shaking whisper.

“W-what do you want from me?”

I leaned in, close to her face, “Remo Lombardi.”

Her face drained of color. She blinked, suddenly realizing how much trouble she was in, “I don’t know anyone with that name.”

I tilted my head, wiped the blood off my cheek with my thumb, and licked it.

She stared at me as I licked the blood, her eyes wide, chest rising fast. For a second, just a second, her mouth opened, maybe to scream, maybe to beg but she clamped it shut like she was swallowing glass.

Then she lunged.

She tried to claw at Raphael’s face, kicked at the door, tried to bite his arm. Pure adrenaline and panic, wild and messy. She fought like a cornered animal.

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