"It's awful," Elio whispered the exact thoughts Savannah had.
Yes, it was. The colors were completely unmatched and combined together looked like vomit.
"Damn, I could throw up on the canvas, devise some incredibly stupid story of its origin and live happily ever after. Not working two shifts," she murmured, making Elio laugh. "I think I just missed my calling."
"Don't worry," they heard a male voice coming from behind them. Flavio Falcone. "It's the least ridiculous one you're going to see. They always leave the worst ones for the end."
Savannah opened her mouth to say something to him just as a blinding flash like sheet-lightning and a huge ball of varicolored fire belched upward, leaving a series of smoke-rings to float slowly after it.
Chapter Forty-One
Windows shattered. Smoke and fire enveloped everything. Thousands of pieces of glass and steel united in a deadly rainfall showered down. Alarms, shrill and deafening, erupted.
Evacuate.
Stat.
Bratva.
Suspected bomb.
Bomb.
Bomb.
Bomb.
Those were the words Savannah could hear along with a continued shriek in her ears. She was down on the floor, trying to breathe but after the force of the impact, she was struggling. Her chest felt heavy, her hands were covered in blood as she was surrounded by sharp glass pieces.
Then there were gunshots. On instinct she curled up, holding her throbbing head. The tears incessantly rolled down her cheeks.
She was scared.
She didn't know what was going on.
"Savannah," she heard Elio's voice and felt his hand on her hip. It soothed her fear. Just a little bit. But enough that she decided to open her eyes and look up.
He was kneeling beside her. His eyes searching the area while he was holding two guns in his hands. Then he quickly glanced at her. Pain was written all over his face. He had a few long wounds on his forehead and cheeks and was covered in dust. His hair always perfectly styled was now a disaster. His suit was torn in many places. Yet he couldn't care less.
"Are you alright? Can you get up? Are you hurt?" he asked before standing up and shooting bullets behind her, then going back to his earlier position. "We need to leave."
Savannah nodded. Because of the adrenaline, she couldn't even answer him. She could be terribly hurt for all she knew but didn't feel it. If she looked like Elio, anything was possible.
He motioned for her to grab his upper arm. Immediately, she felt wet liquid flowing through her fingers. Looking up at Elio, she saw blood. Lots and lots of blood.
He was hurt. Badly.
A low hiss escaped his lips but other than that he didn't acknowledge the wound. Carefully he led her towards the exit, maneuvering through many bodies scattered around.
People were dead.
People were hurt.
The bomb had exploded.
She tried to ignore what she saw, focusing on getting out of this hellhole. Elio still kept a strong grip on both his drawn guns.
They went out of the villa, two of many other people coughing, shouting, crying and running around, panicking. Some men also had their guns. Made Men.
It all felt like a dream.
A nightmare.
Especially when she looked at the villa, realizing that all the windows were shuttered, fire coming out of them. Smoke. Lots and lots of smoke.
"Savannah."
Unbelievable pain gathered in her legs. She had pieces of glass stuck in them. Without thinking about whether it was a good move or bad, she reached down and took them out. Blood resurfaced.
"Savannah." Elio shook her body, bringing her back to reality. He dragged her with him towards the parking lot. She was barely able to properly walk and felt like Elio was putting way more strength into it than she had.
He opened her palm and handed her keys.
His car.
"Go," he ordered and once again looked at her. "Go home and wait for me there. Don't talk to anyone and don't stop. Understood?"
Yes.
Yes.
Yes.
She nodded. Her lips trembled.
"Be careful but please drive."
Savannah didn't have a driver's permit but knew how to drive. And getting a ticket, whatsoever, seemed like the least of her problems. Her eyes moved to Elio's bleeding arm. There was even more of the red liquid seeping through after she’d let go.
"Elio," she whispered, barely finding her voice.
"I'll be alright. But you cannot stay here," he said. "Go," he pressured.
Chapter Forty-Two
It was a fucking mess.
Once Savannah drove out of the estate, Elio needed to focus on the explosion. There was no doubt that the Bratva was behind it, especially since they’d sent out a few soldiers after that to finish off the survivors. Without any luck. The bomb itself had been set up right under the stairs and most of those who had no chance of survival had been close to it. The others had mostly suffered because of the shrapnel and ricochet. Their wounds were still serious, but nothing compared to the sight of ripped bodies Elio saw when he went back into the villa.
As he strolled down the hall, his head was still filled with ringing under the pressure of the explosion. He had also hurt his arm, however, he couldn't really feel it, still intoxicated with the adrenaline rushing through his veins. Soon the firefighters would be here and the Made Men had to be quick and ease all the evidence of the event being filled with mafia. Whoever could, had to get out as not to be then questioned by the police. It wouldn't turn badly since most officers were to turn the blind eye, yet spending time on planning revenge was more satisfying.
"Elio," he heard Flavio's voice. The man came up to him, his own gun tightly gripped in his hand. They could never be absolutely sure that whatever Russians remained on the property were dead. As far as they could see, there were Made Man, however, it was better to be safe than sorry.
The Enforcer looked behind him, seeing Noah Falcone leaving the villa. "Where is he going?"
"He needs to make sure that the auction documents were destroyed. He'd smuggled some of the items across the
