Chapter 36: No One Touches my Treasure

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Enna's POV:

The world tilted on its axis. Contessa. My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs, drowning out the rumble of the engine. I slammed the car door open, quickly getting in and barking out an order to return to base.

"What happened?" Sofia demanded, her voice a tight knot.

I looked at them, each face etched with a mixture of terror and resolve. Luca, his jaw clenched tight, his eyes blazing.

"The base," I said, my voice hoarse. "Under attack. Contessa..."

I couldn't finish the sentence. The image of her, trapped and scared, was too much to bear. The driver, a loyal member of the Dragoni Rossi, threw the car into gear and slammed on the accelerator.  The engine roared to life, and we shot forward, tires squealing as we tore back towards the base.

Without needing to say more, Sofia jumped into action. "Luca, get the comms. See if there's any signal we can pick up from the base. We need to know what's happening." Her voice was steady, but the tremor in her hands betrayed the churning emotions beneath the surface.

Luca scrambled into action, a well-oiled machine fueled by purpose and unspoken fear. My own body, however, felt disconnected.

"We can't get a signal," Luca said, his voice low. "The comms are jammed. We're going in blind."

Blind. The word hung heavy in the air, a testament to the precarious situation we were about to face. But fear was a luxury I couldn't afford. Contessa needed me, and I wouldn't let her down. Wouldn't let Damian win.

A heavy silence descended upon the car.  We all knew the risks of being a Rossi fighter, but the base itself, our home, was supposed to be a safe haven.  Now, it was under siege.

The miles seemed to stretch endlessly, each bump and turn of the road an agonizing reminder of the distance between us and Contessa.  Silence filled the car again, broken only by the frantic whoosh of wind and the rhythmic pounding of our hearts.

We all knew the base wouldn't be the same we left it.  It was a question of how much damage had been done, how many casualties there were, and most importantly, whether Contessa was safe.  The answer awaited us at the end of this frantic journey, and with every passing minute, the weight of anticipation grew heavier.

Contessa, I prayed silently, hold on. We're coming.

...

The tires screeched to a halt, throwing me against my seatbelt. Before the vehicle had a chance to settle, I had thrown open the car door and was already sprinting towards the entrance. Luca, Sofia, and Marco, the driver were close behind, their faces grim as they fanned out, weapons drawn.

The scene that greeted me was a nightmare come to life. The base was now a warzone. Flames danced across the edge of the building, casting an eerie orange glow over the chaos. Bullet holes marred the walls, broken windows all over.

The other two SUVs followed suit, disgorging a wave of Rossi fighters into the chaos. Gunfire erupted from the front entrance of the base, a staccato rhythm that tore through the night. Smoke billowed from the broken windows, obscuring the scene within.

"Spread out! Cover!" Luca roared, his voice barely audible over the din.  We sprinted towards the base, a fragmented tapestry of movement and desperation.

The world became a blur of adrenaline and action. We stormed the doorway, diving for cover behind overturned furniture and broken crates. The air was thick with the acrid smell of gunpowder and burning wood.

I didn't waste a second. Grabbing my pistol from its holster, I charged towards the nearest attacker, a hulking figure firing wildly into the crowd. With a well-placed kick, I sent his weapon clattering across the floor, following up with a punch that connected solidly with his jaw. The brute crumpled, unconscious.

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