Under His Protection

Chapter 6: A Dangerous Game

The warehouse was quiet now, its earlier hum of tension replaced by an eerie stillness. Taylor stood by the table where moments ago, deals had been struck and lives had been decided with just a few words. It was unsettling how easily the mafia moved between power plays and violence, treating it like any other business meeting.

But this was her life now. She had chosen it. She had chosen Travis.

As if sensing her thoughts, Travis walked over, his presence commanding the room. His face softened slightly as he stopped in front of her, hands sliding into his pockets. There was something unreadable in his eyes, a mixture of concern and possessiveness, as though he was both protecting her and wary of how deep she was falling into his world.

"You sure you're okay?" he asked quietly, his voice cutting through the stillness.

Taylor swallowed, her pulse steadying under his gaze. "I'm fine. I just... I didn't expect it to be like this."

Travis tilted his head slightly, his eyes searching hers. "I told you it wouldn't be easy." He stepped closer, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. His touch was gentle, but there was a darker promise behind it. "This is just the beginning."

Taylor knew that. She had felt the weight of that reality the moment she agreed to stand by him. But being in the middle of it, seeing the consequences of his power and the lengths he would go to protect what was his—it was more intense than she could have imagined.

"What happens next?" she asked, her voice softer now, almost hesitant.

Travis's jaw tightened. "We move forward. Santino's trying to push us out of this city, and I won't let that happen." His tone was steely, laced with a cold resolve. "But the closer we get to shutting him down, the more dangerous it becomes—for everyone."

Taylor felt a chill run through her. She wasn't naive. She knew that people got hurt in Travis's world. But hearing it so plainly made the danger feel more real than ever.

"And what about us?" she asked, her eyes searching his for answers.

For a long moment, Travis didn't speak. His gaze dropped to the floor, his usual air of control slipping just slightly. "I've never done this before, Taylor," he admitted, his voice low and rough. "Never let anyone get close. It's not safe."

Taylor's heart twisted at his words, the vulnerability in them. For all his power and strength, Travis was still a man battling his own demons. She could see it in the way his shoulders tensed, the way his eyes darkened when he talked about the future. He wasn't just protecting her from the outside world—he was protecting her from himself.

But Taylor had already made her choice. She stepped forward, placing a hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her palm. "I can handle it," she whispered, her voice firm. "I want to be with you, Travis. All of you."

He looked down at her, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. Then, with a sudden movement, he pulled her into him, his arms wrapping around her tightly, as though holding on to her was the only thing grounding him. Taylor melted into his embrace, her breath catching as the weight of the moment settled over them.

For a brief second, everything else fell away. The danger. The violence. The darkness of Travis's world. In that moment, it was just the two of them, tangled together in the quiet of the warehouse.

But it didn't last.

The sound of footsteps echoed through the corridor, breaking the stillness. Travis stiffened, his grip on Taylor loosening as he stepped back, his expression hardening in an instant. The mafia boss was back.

Patrick Mahomes appeared in the doorway, his usual confident swagger replaced with a look of concern. He gave Taylor a quick nod before turning to Travis.

"We've got a problem," Patrick said, his voice low. "Santino's men hit one of our shipments. Took everything."

Travis's jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tightening. He didn't say anything at first, but Taylor could feel the tension radiating off him. This was more than just a setback—it was a direct challenge.

"How many men did we lose?" Travis finally asked, his voice cold.

"Two," Patrick replied. "We've got men tracking down the rest, but Santino's making his move."

For a moment, silence hung in the air. Taylor watched as Travis's mind worked, the gears turning behind his dark eyes. She knew he was calculating his next steps, trying to figure out how to retaliate without risking more lives. But she also knew that this wasn't just about business anymore. Santino's attack wasn't just on Travis's territory—it was personal.

Finally, Travis turned to Patrick, his voice sharp. "Tell Ross to get the men ready. We're going to pay Santino a visit."

Patrick nodded, not needing any more explanation. "Got it."

As Patrick turned to leave, Travis's eyes flicked back to Taylor, softening for just a moment before the hardened mask slipped back into place. "You should go home," he said quietly. "This isn't going to be pretty."

Taylor's stomach twisted at his words, but she shook her head. "No. I'm not going anywhere."

For a second, Travis looked like he wanted to argue. But then he nodded, his expression grim. "Stay close to me. No matter what happens."

The night air was thick with tension as they arrived at Santino's base, a sleek, upscale club that fronted as a legitimate business. But Taylor knew better. Behind the neon lights and velvet ropes was a world just as dark as Travis's—maybe darker.

Travis, Patrick, Ross, and a handful of Travis's men moved swiftly and quietly, slipping into the club's back entrance without drawing attention. Taylor stayed close, her heart pounding in her chest. She could feel the danger in the air, the way everyone was on edge, ready for a fight.

As they moved deeper into the club, Travis's hand found hers, squeezing it tightly. She didn't need words to know what he was telling her. Stay with me. Don't let go.

They reached a set of heavy double doors, and Travis gave a nod to Ross, who was already pulling a gun from his waistband. Patrick stood on the other side, his own weapon at the ready. Taylor's pulse quickened as she realized what was about to happen.

This wasn't just a warning. This was war.

With a swift motion, Ross kicked the door open, and chaos erupted.

The room exploded with noise—shouts, gunfire, the sound of furniture crashing to the floor. Taylor's heart pounded in her ears as she clung to Travis, her eyes wide as the fight unfolded around them. Travis moved like a predator, every motion controlled and precise. She had never seen him like this—so deadly, so focused.

Within minutes, the room was cleared. Santino's men lay scattered on the ground, some unconscious, others groaning in pain. Patrick and Ross stood on either side of the room, their weapons still drawn, scanning for any remaining threats.

And then, from the shadows, Santino himself stepped forward.

He was tall, with slicked-back hair and a cold, calculating smile. His eyes flicked over the scene before landing on Travis, his smile widening. "Kelce," he said, his voice dripping with mockery. "Didn't expect to see you so soon."

Travis's grip on Taylor tightened, but he didn't respond to Santino's taunt. Instead, he stepped forward, his eyes locked on his rival.

"This ends tonight," Travis said, his voice low and dangerous.

Santino chuckled, glancing around at the wreckage of his men. "You think this is over? You've barely scratched the surface."

Before Travis could respond, the sound of sirens echoed from outside. Santino's smile grew wider. "Looks like we've got company."

Travis's eyes darkened, but he didn't move. He stood his ground, his focus unshakable. "Get out," he said to Taylor, his voice low and commanding. "Now."

But Taylor didn't move. She couldn't. This was the moment everything changed. The moment where Travis's world collided with hers in the most dangerous way possible.

And she wasn't going to walk away.