Into The Fire

Stay close!"

Dante’s voice was a crisp order, leaving no room for hesitation. Francesca felt the heat of the rapidly growing fire burn her skin, and the smoke was dense and stifling, making it difficult to breathe.

She nodded as she watched Dante survey the room with cold, analytical eyes, her heart racing frantically.

He was shaken, but not broken by the situation. He moved like a wolf guarding its den—ferocious, precise, and savage.

With his gun ready and sweat streaming down his brow, Vince stormed through the door. "There are more people coming from the south side. We must leave now.”

Dante narrowed his eyes and nodded. "We're moving toward the rear. Secure the perimeter and make sure no one gets in.”

A wordless acknowledgment passed between the two men as Vince's jaw tightened. Vince didn't say anything else before rushing back into the melee as distant gunfire echoed around him.

With anxiety and doubt circling through her mind, Francesca dabbed her sweaty face. Flames were consuming the mansion as Lorenzo's men were pulling it apart, and it was impossible to predict how far the fire would spread.

Panic increased with every second as she tried to breathe, and her lungs burned. "I am unable to... She clutched her chest and gasped, "I can't breathe."

She felt Dante's arm encircle her waist and draw her closer. "I’ve got you."

His touch cut through the oppressive heat and sent a thrill down her spine. His voice grounded her in spite of the commotion all around them. Her inner maelstrom of horror subsided momentarily. Dante pulled her toward a side door she had not previously noticed, saying, "We have to go."

It opened onto a tiny hallway that wound around and around like a maze. The stench of smoke continued to saturate the air, making every breath agonizing, even as they moved farther away from the gunfire and fires.

"Where are we heading?" Coughing as the smoke bit at her throat, Francesca rasped.

Dante said in a low, resolute voice, "Underground. Below the mansion is a tunnel that leads outside.”

Francesca staggered, her thoughts racing. "A tunnel? You seem to always have a way out.”

Dante never wavered in his stride as he drew her forward, his grip tightening around her arm. "Have a plan at all times. Expect treachery at all times.”

When they got to the end of the hall, Dante forced open a secret door that opened to a tiny, poorly lit staircase. He gestured for her to lead. With a somber tone, he commanded, "Go down there. I'll follow closely behind you."

Francesca paused, doubt flickering across her mind. A mafia boss, an underground passage, a burning house, and armed men pursuing them—it all felt surreal. Her life had turned from a calm and predictable one to a furious hail of gunfire and destruction. However, there was no going back.

With a nod, she started down the stairs, her footsteps reverberating through the small room. The sweltering heat above was a sharp contrast to the chilly, moist stone walls. The farther they descended, the fresher the air became, and she was able to breathe without feeling as though she had been holding her breath for hours.

Dante trailed behind, shutting the door to keep the pandemonium and smoke outside. In front of them extended a dim, winding tunnel that appeared to continue on forever.

The danger that surrounded them added to the intense tension that had been building since she'd arrived at his estate. "Why didn't you inform me of this earlier?" Francesca demanded, her voice shaking with rage and terror. "Why didn't you tell me everything?"

As they continued, Dante's eyes shifted forward and his jaw hardened. “Do you think I wanted any of this? Do you think I intended for you to be part of this mess?”

"You ought to have warned me!" With a rising voice, she fired back. "Without warning, you pulled me into your world. You kept secrets. You lied.”

He came to a sudden stop and looked at her, his eyes blazing with annoyance. "I made sure you were safe."

"Safe?" She pointed to the roof, where gunfire and smoke continued to rage above them, and laughed sadly. "This is how you define safe?"

Dante moved in closer, his bulk filling the small tunnel. His tone was hushed and menacing. “Francesca, you would already be dead if it weren't for me. You are unaware of the crazy individuals I have shielded you from. Lorenzo is only one of them.”

Her breath caught as she swallowed forcefully. It was too much—the intensity in his eyes and the way his words struck like a kick to the gut. She was at a loss for words for a time. Her resistance felt paltry, almost inconsequential, in comparison to the crushing weight of the truth he was laying out.

She broke into a whisper, "Then tell me. Explain the situation to me honestly. Why did my mother associate with someone such as your father and Lorenzo’s father? Why is Lorenzo so determined to exploit me? And how did my father come to owe you so much money?”

Dante's face began to take on shadows as his look grew darker. Before saying anything, he appeared to struggle with himself for a while. “Francesca, your father owed me more than just money. He was entitled to protection. Years ago, he made a bad deal with the Rossi family and crossed them. Although I intervened and assumed the loan, Lorenzo would never forget. As for your mother’s involvement with Giovanni and my father, I think Giovanni is the only one with the answers.”

Francesca’s stomach knotted. “So, the bakery had no bearing on this. It's all about getting even.”

Dante gave a slow nod. “And now he's trying to get me by using you. He believes he will succeed if he can ruin what is mine.”

She retreated a step, her heart racing. "What's yours?"

For the first time since their meeting, Dante's eyes softened, and his countenance became more vulnerable. "You."

Her breath caught in her throat. The word hung thick and charged in the air between them. In Dante and Lorenzo's perilous game, she had become a pawn, a piece.

Footsteps sounded from behind them before she could process his words. Dante's gaze suddenly shifted to the tunnel entrance. He pulled his gun and growled, yanking her behind him. "Get back."

The sound of approaching footsteps made Francesca’s heart rush. It wasn't only them down here. As the shadows moved, Vince appeared out of the shadows, his face pallid, and with blood streaming down his arm, he gasped, "They're in the tunnel. We must hurry.”

Anger flared in Dante's eyes, but there wasn't time for it. Grabbing Francesca’s hand, he dragged her farther into the tube.

With the sound of footsteps pursuing them, they fled as the walls closed in around them. The road ahead was barely illuminated by the flickering lights as the tunnel bent and turned.

And then the earth shook violently beneath them as they turned a corner. Francesca and Dante were thrown to the ground by a deafening explosion that tore through the tunnel. The ceiling collapsed, sending dust and debris into the air.

Francesca cleared her throat, her eyes watering. "Dante?" With her heart racing in her chest, she reached out blindly, but she got no answer. In the shadows, her fingers reached his arm, but it was immobile and limp.

"Dante!" she exclaimed, her heart racing with fear as she heard footsteps getting closer and louder. Dante was unconscious, and the tunnel was crumbling. They had run out of time.