Worse Allies

“See? He’s efficient!” Mia said, as if murderous alley confrontations were a selling point. This was her reply to me telling her how he eliminated a man for attempting to roofie me. If this isn't the craziest, most delusional take you’ve ever heard, then I don’t know.

“He’s a control freak!”

“And you’re a workaholic who thinks emotions are a chemical imbalance. You’re perfect for each other.” Where did she pull that kind of logic from?

I groaned. “I tried to end things. He showed up in my bedroom, Mia. He broke into my house and showed himself to my room, watched me sleep. That’s not romance—that’s a true-crime podcast.”

She hesitated. “Okay, that’s… a lot. But you’re in over your head. Let him help. Then dump his psycho ass after you’re not in danger.”

My phone buzzed.

Unknown Number: You should’ve listened.

A photo popped up—me leaving the lab last night, my coat collar turned up against the rain.

“What’s wrong?” Mia said, leaning over.

I shoved the phone in my bag. “Nothing. I’ll handle it.”

“Elena—”

“I said I’ll handle it!”

The lights flickered.

I frowned. “Did you pay your electric bill?” before the words could even leave my mouth, the window shattered.

A canister rolled across the floor, hissing smoke. I grabbed Mia’s arm, dragging her to the ground as gunfire erupted outside—pop-pop-pop—shattering the other windows.

“Stay down!” I yelled, crawling toward the hall closet. Mia followed, her breath ragged.

“Who the hell is that?!” she hissed.

“Your enemies? Loan sharks? Your boyfriend?”

“He’s not my—ugh, never mind!”

The gunfire stopped. Footsteps crunched over broken glass in the alley below.

Then my phone rang.

Luca.

I stared at it, my hands shaking.

“Answer it!” Mia snapped.

I swallowed, hitting accept. “Luca—”

“Where are you?” His voice was a blade. It was almost like he already knew the answer to hs question and was rather trying to confirm that I was still alive.

“Mia’s apartment. Someone’s shooting at—”

“I’m two minutes away. Don’t move.”

The line went dead.

The front door exploded off its hinges.

Three men in black masks stormed in, guns raised. Mia screamed. I reached for a fire poker, but one of them grabbed my hair, yanking me backward.

“The research,” he snarled, pressing a gun to my temple. “Where is it?” f**k! They are quick. They must have already realized that what they had shredded was not the most recent work. Of course, it wasn’t. I’m not that stupid. Why would I leave my real work in a public place where it can easily be accessed?

But this was bad timing. It should have taken them at least a few weeks to figure that out. But they did it in a few hours? The person behind this must be well versed in my work. Or rather, my mother’s work.

“Go to hell,” I spat. Help is on the way. I’m not sure why, but at that moment I was suddenly so confident that Luca would come through and save me. I just need to hold on a little longer.

The burly man who had a fistful of my hair was growing impatient by the second. He c****d the hammer—

And the wall exploded.

Luca stood in the rubble, his suit immaculate, his eyes blazing.

“Wrong answer,” he said.

Then all hell broke loose.

The world dissolved into chaos.

Luca’s men moved like a storm—fluid, lethal, inevitable. For him, it seemed there was only one goal: to find me. He disarmed the man holding me with a snap of his wrist, the gun clattering to the floor. A punch to the throat, a twist of his arm, and the attacker crumpled.

“Stay behind me,” Luca ordered, shoving me toward Mia.

She was already armed with a kitchen knife, her eyes wild. “Since when do you date action heroes?!”

“Shut up and duck!” I couldn’t believe she still had the guts to joke in this situation. How come I'm always surrounded by psychos?

Another attacker lunged, but Luca’s bullet found his knee before he took two steps. The third man froze, his gun wavering. Luca didn’t.

Bang.

The body hit the floor.

Luca grabbed the last man by the collar, slamming him against the wall. “Who sent you?”

The man spat blood, grinning. “Vaffanculo.”

Luca’s smile was colder. He pressed his gun into the man’s thigh. “Last chance.”

“Luca, don’t—” I started.

Bang.

The man screamed.

“Who. Sent. You.”

“Volkov!” the man screeched through the pain.

Luca leaned closer. “Why?”

The man’s eyes darted towards me, then widened. He bit down—a crunch, a gasp—and collapsed, foam bubbling from his lips.

“Cyanide pill,” Luca muttered, releasing the corpse. “Cleanup in aisle five, boys.”

More of his men swarmed in, dragging bodies away.

I stared at the blood on my hands. My fault. All my fault.

Luca turned to me, his gaze scalding. “You’re coming with me.”

“Like hell,” I said, backing up. The Volkov family was a rival mafia to the Moretti’s. Going with him was as good as choosing a camp during a war; unsafe. If the Volkovs prove to be stronger, I will die a painful death.

Right now, the Moretti are led by Luca, who is young and reckless, while the Volkovs are led by a seasoned old man with lots of experience and wisdom. Even if I wasn’t a genius, it wouldn’t be too hard to calculate Luca’s chances and mine if I were to choose him. I don’t want to die. Not like that.

He closed the distance, his voice a low growl. “You have two choices: my penthouse or a body bag. Pick.”

“I choose the bag,” I said defiantly. My mind is made. After this, I will find a way to protect myself. Mia will be safe. I just need to find a safe space for myself. Worst case scenario: I'd just go back to Mexico and stuff tacos with my dad. I’m not getting into whatever madness this is.

“You choose the bag?” he c****d a brow, and I saw his eyes twitch a little. Must be from anger. My stubbornness was really getting to him, I could tell.

“I'm not going to be affiliated with the mafia, Luca, not even in my death. So, yes, I chose the body ba—”

DUCKTAPE? DUCK f*****g TAPE!

The psycho taped my f*****g lips! My eyes widened in shock, and he took that opportunity to cuff my hands up. Then he slung me over his shoulder like a bag of flour. I've never felt so incapacitated. I wiggled in protest, and he slapped my ass, which just further infuriated me.

“You don’t want to be affiliated with the mafia? Shouldn’t you have thought about that before you let a mafia don f**k you? You better not die. Even if you do, I will bury you in my ancestral home as my wife. "You and I will never be over.” He said as he threw my bound body on to the plush leather back seat of his car, shut the door and drove off in silence.