Serendipity

Chapter 41

Raffaele

By the time we storm Dubois' building and enter the big hall, hell has already broken loose. The walls are lined with rows of men, their hands raised as they cheer and shout eagerly. They're behaving like a pack of wild animals, with no structure or class at all. It makes me wonder where the hell Dubois is, seeing as he'd never allow his men such indiscipline.

They don't even realize we're here apart from a few ones closest to the doors. The others are focused solely on the cluster of people right ahead of us. My attention is on it too as I try to figure out what I'm seeing exactly but all I can make out are different moving limps clad in black, all moving out of sync, being pulled out of the circle before vanishing back in.

A pearl of sweat trickles down the side of my temple and the collar of my shirt grows too tight in this stuffy room. To my left and right, I'm aware of my men fighting those working for Dubois but the only thing I care about, that I came for, is nowhere in sight.

Where the fuck is Elodie?

I came as fast as I could but too much time has already passed. Who knows what that son of a bitch has done to Elodie so far. I haven't let myself think about it so far and took close care to keep my mind and body busy but now my carefully suppressed anxiety is burning up like a damn wildfire.

I'll never forgive myself if I'm too late, that's all I know. Especially with the way she and I left things off, I-

My eyes leave the confusing ball of guards in the middle and search the crowd of bystanders instead. I find my spies easily, seeing as they're the ones ready to meet my eyes but what I read in their expressions isn't something I like. They look hesitant or worried. Scared, even.

"Where is she?" I yell over the commotion, making about a hundred more heads turn my way. Even the guys in the middle stop what they were doing to look at me and I can distinguish the very moment they recognize me. Their sweat-dampened faces blanch a little taking in the men around and behind me, and one of them makes the fatal mistake of taking a step back.

The backs of his feet seem to bump against something on the floor behind him, making him stumble. With a big, clumsy leap over the lump on the floor, he reveals what all of them were previously gathered around.

But it's not a lump. Not really. It's a curled-up figure, mostly concealed by long, black hair but I recognize her all the same.

My heart drops dangerously as my eyes try to catch any sign of breathing but all I can see is Elodie's back and so far, she doesn't seem to be moving. Still, I resist the urge to race to her to get reassurance and take her the hell out of here. Instead, I raise my eyes to the enemies we're surrounded by and speak up, my voice shaking with rage, power, and panic. The latest which I don't reveal.

"Where is he?" I ask them, referring to their boss. No one replies. For several seconds that feel like an eternity, not a single one of those fucking cowards dares to answer my question. The same fucking cowards that had been beating up a person that was already on the floor before I fucking interrupted them.

The muscles in my legs burn and more sweat gathers along my hairline with the strain to keep from moving but if I run to her, people will notice and it'll be seen as a weakness. It's too dangerous. Besides, I have Dubois to deal with and it needs to be done now. I have no mercy left for him after this. Nothing. I don't care how hard it'll be, he dies today.

"Where is he!" I repeat, shouting at the top of my lungs. His men exchange worried looks, not unlike lost puppies. Almost as if they didn't know what to do and who to look at for guidance.

"Dead," one of my spies finally says, his calm voice cutting through the otherwise silent hall and ringing in my ears like a gunshot.

Dead. Dubois is dead.

I don't need to ask who killed him and don't care about anything else because, at that very moment, a silent, almost inaudible whimper escapes the injured woman on the floor and my mind is wiped clean. I charge for her, not hesitating or feeling remorse as I shoot the gathered men closest to her. The men responsible for the pain she's in.

My actions trigger a whole orchestra of gunshots and shouts but I don't pay attention, trusting my men to do their job and have my back as I gather Elodie in my arms. I don't dare to look at her as I carry her back toward the exit, running without once allowing my eyes to stay from my destination.

My men let me through easily, two of them flanking me as I sprint down corridor after corridor. Outside, my driver opens my door for me as soon as he sees me coming, and even before my ass is planted in the back, Elodie still in my arms, we're driving.

"To the hospital," I order since it's closer than my place. Only then do I look down.

Elodie is limp in my arms, her head resting heavily against my chest while a curtain of her hair shields her face from my view. So I take in what I can see, throat growing tighter and mouth drier by the second.

Her wrists are bloodied and swollen like she was tied up too tightly for too long. Nasty bruises are already dotting her usually smooth skin. Her right pointer finger is bent at an unnatural angle, looking like it had been dislocated. There's blood on her hands. A lot. Though I'm not sure if it's hers.

The knife digs deeper into my stomach as she whimpers again. "Shh, little one. I know. I got you." I press a careful kiss to the crown of her head without thinking, scared I'll hurt her but unable to keep doing nothing. Fuck, she seems tiny in my arms. Tiny and fragile and completely unlike her usual self.

I feel helpless. I don't even care if my driver hears. He can suck my dick. It'll be my problem some other time.

"You'll be okay, baby. We'll be at the hospital soon and they'll help you feel better. Almost there," I ramble. Then, despite knowing better, I adjust my hold on her to free one of my hands. Gently wiping her hair out of the way, I reveal her bruised and bloodied face.

I suck in a painful breath through my teeth, imagining what she must be feeling. I curse myself for having let this happen. Curse her for having gone against my word and curse the whole damn world for being such a shitty fucking place.

So help me god, if Elodie doesn't feel better when she wakes up, I'll burn this hellhole to the ground.

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Wish y'all a great dayy<3