Kidnapping the Assassin: The Mafia Don’s Fatal Mistake

Inhale, Exhale

Chapter 12

[Elara]

Fire.

Every breath felt like inhaling ground glass. My lungs seized, my vision blurring at the edges as the green neurotoxin flooded the chamber.

I lay on the cold stone floor, curling into a fetal position. I tried to slow my heart rate, tried to fall back on my training, but the toxin was too aggressive. It was attacking my central nervous system. My limbs felt like lead.

So this is it, I thought, staring at the blurry stone wall. No glorious death in battle. Just a rat poisoned in a cage.

My mind drifted to Lily. I had a dead-man's switch on my bank accounts. If I died, the funds would automatically transfer to the hospital in Geneva. She would be safe for a few years. But who would sit by her bed and hold her hand? Who would talk to her while she slept?

A tear slipped out of the corner of my eye, cutting a clean line through the soot on my cheek.

And then, I heard a sound.

BOOM.

The heavy steel blast door at the end of the chamber shuddered violently.

BOOM.

The metal buckled.

BOOM!

The lock shattered, and the heavy door was kicked open with terrifying, inhuman force.

A massive figure stepped through the smoke and green gas. He wore a ruined charcoal suit, a gas mask strapped over his face, and carried an assault rifle in his hands. He looked like the god of war descending into hell.

Cassian.

He had come for me.

He dropped his rifle and sprinted across the room, sliding to his knees beside me. He didn't hesitate for a fraction of a second. He ripped the gas mask off his own face and slammed it over mine.

Clean, oxygen-rich air rushed into my starving lungs. I gasped, my back arching off the stone floor as I greedily sucked in the air.

Cassian hauled me up against his chest, wrapping his arms around me tightly.

"I've got you," he coughed, the toxic gas already affecting his voice. He squeezed his eyes shut, his chest heaving as the neurotoxin invaded his unprotected lungs. "I've got you, Elara."

"Cassian," I rasped through the mask, my hands weakly gripping his ruined suit jacket. "The gas... you're breathing it."

"I don't care," he grunted. With a massive surge of strength, he stood up, lifting my body into his arms like I weighed nothing.

He carried me out of the chamber, running blindly down the corridor he had blown open, away from the gas vents. He kicked open a side door to an old maintenance tunnel, slamming it shut behind us to seal out the green smoke.

The air in the tunnel was stale, but breathable.

Cassian collapsed against the wall, sliding down to the floor, taking me with him. I scrambled out of his arms, pulling the mask off my face.

He was leaning his head back against the stone, his skin pale, a thin trail of blood trickling from his nose. His breathing was shallow and ragged.

"You idiot," I sobbed. The mask of the Viper completely shattered. I didn't care about being cold. I didn't care about the rules. I grabbed his face, forcing him to look at me. "You forfeited the throne! You broke the High Table's laws!"

"I told you," he whispered, a weak, bloody smile forming on his lips. His heavy eyelids drooped. "My throne... isn't worth your life."

"Cassian, stay with me," I panicked, pressing two fingers to his neck. His pulse was weak and thready. The toxin was shutting his organs down.

He reached up, his trembling, blood-stained hand cupping my cheek.

"I promised I would protect you, wife," he murmured, his thumb brushing away the tear that had fallen from my eye.

His hand went limp, falling away from my face. His head rolled to the side.

"Cassian!" I screamed, shaking his shoulders. "Cassian, wake up!"

He didn't move. He didn't breathe.

I sat in the dark, damp tunnel, clutching the lifeless body of the mafia Don to my chest.

For five years, I thought my heart was a cold, dead thing. But as I held Cassian Rossi in the dark, I felt it tear violently in two.

And in that moment, the Viper didn't just wake up.

She prepared to go to war.