Dark Romance | Mafia

Chapter Nineteen

Stella's POV:

I peeked through the holes in the crates.
Mr. Romano was right in the middle of the chaos. His one hand was around a man's throat, while with the other hand he was throwing brutal punches on his face.

The impact was so strong that the man's eyes rolled, and he was about to lose consciousness, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.

Two more men rushed in. My eyes darted around.... then I spotted a rolling trolley.

Without a second thought, I shoved it forward with all my strength, trying hard to block their path.

But then, out of nowhere, Mr. Romano appeared. The trolley slammed into his knees with a loud thud. He stumbled back and crashed into the men behind him, knocking them down like bowling pins.

Without wasting a second, he started landing brutal punches on them, one after another. Then he stood there, breathing heavily, his eyes locked on me.... frustration evident on his face. I gulped hard.

"Sorry," I whispered, blinking rapidly, he brushed his fingers through his hair, titled his head and sighed.

I lowered my gaze, cheeks burning with embarrassment.

"Why did you come out?" he growled, voice sharp and low.

"I just.... wanted to help," I murmured, barely meeting his gaze.

He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could speak, four men came toward us.

Mr. Romano instantly launched into action.... fists flying, kicks landing. I stood frozen for a second, then sprang forward and swung with everything I had at the nearest man.

But I missed.

The man dodged like a pro, and my fist landed straight on Mr. Romano's face.

He staggered back. I gasped and slapped both hands over my mouth, stunned. My heart stopped beating.

"I.... oh my God...." I whispered, eyes widened.

But Mr. Romano recovered in an instant. He straightened his back like I hadn't punched him seconds ago, he wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, and slammed a hard punch into the attacker in front of him, sending the man crashing to the ground.

When the last one fell, he turned slowly to me. Each step was intimidating and my breath caught in my throat.

Before I could react, he marched up and grabbed my wrist tightly, his fingers closed around it firmly.

He shoved me against the wall. My back hit the cold surface with a thud, a lump formed in my throat. His face was dangerously close, inches from mine, unreadable, dangerous.

He was in front of me, shielding me with his body. One hand pressed against the wall above my head, trapping me like a predator.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" he asked, eyes locked on mine.

"I was just trying to help you out, I---"

"I'll deal with you later," he cut me off sharply.

He took a step away, then paused and glanced back....

"Don't interfere!" His voice low and threatening.

He turned away just as two more men appeared, rushing toward us. I instinctively took a step back..... and my foot hit something. I glanced down.

Holy crap!

An oil bucket.

Before I could even react, the floor turned into chaos. The two men skidded across the slippery surface, arms flailing wildly like dancing zombies.

I couldn't help it.... I burst into laughter, clutching my stomach as they stumbled and tried to stay upright.

Just a glance from Mr. Romano was enough to silence my laughter.

Mr. Romano, somehow managed to keep his balance, handled them swiftly.... knocking out them. He turned toward me, clearly ready to burst.

"Let me help----" I started, extending my hand and stepped forward.

Too late.

I walked straight into the puddle of oil.

He groaned and smacked his forehead with his palm.

I tried to steady myself, arms flapping uselessly.... but my foot slid out from under me and slammed into his ankle.

In a split second, we both went down.

Hard.

Flat on the floor, tangled up, oil-slicked, and completely ridiculous.

I lay there for a moment, blinking up at the ceiling, trying to process what just happened.

He groaned beside me.

"Unbelievable," he muttered, his voice laced with both irritation and disbelief.

I tried to push myself up, but my both hands just slid in the oil like I was on a skating rink. I slipped again and collapsed right back onto him.

He just looked me in the eyes.

"It's not like I planned this," I said awkwardly, trying to get up again.... this time using his shoulder for balance.

"I told you to stay silent.... not land in the middle of a clown show," he snapped, trying to sit up himself.

We finally managed to get to our feet, we both were dripping with oil. I tried to wipe my hands on my pants, but that only made it worse.

I looked at him.... his shirt soaked with the oil, his hair stuck to his forehead.... I bit my lip to keep from laughing again.

He narrowed his eyes.

"Don't even think about it."

I failed. I laughed anyway.

He stared at me for a second, expression unreadable... and then, to my surprise, the corner of his mouth twitched. Just a little. Almost a smile.

"You look like a deep-fried villain," I said it mid-laugh.

"And you look like a walking hazard," he muttered.

We stood there in that ridiculous mess, we were breathing hard, staring at each other.

His gaze dropped to my lips for the briefest moment.

Then he stepped back.

"Come on, let's go before you start thinking about showing off your punching skills again."

"No promises," I smiled cheekily.

We walked out of the warehouse, left behind the knocked-out men and the oil-slick disaster.

He didn't say anything, just kept walking, jaw clenched, fists still slightly curled at his sides.

"You're not mad, right?"

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he stopped by the side of the road and turned to me slowly.

His eyes scanned my face briefly.

"I'm not mad, just... trying really hard not to lose my mind around you."

I blinked. "You think I'm annoying?"

"Annoying? Nah, you're just... uniquely exhausting."

"idiot as always," I whispered under my breath.

"Did you say something?"

"No."

We went to his car, but he didn't open the door for me.

So much for being a gentleman, I sighed, opening the door myself and sitting inside. We drove off without a word.

Until then....