Blood Runs Deep

Axia’s chest heaved as Andrew’s mocking words echoed in her ears. “Make your choice. Stay with him and die, or come with me and live.”

But he didn’t know her. Not really. He thought she was the spoiled, sheltered daughter of a mafia boss. He thought her strength ended where her privilege began.

He was wrong.

Axia’s trembling fingers brushed against Preston’s bloodied shoulder. “Hold on,” she whispered, her voice steely despite the panic threatening to consume her.

Preston’s lips curled into a weak smile. “You don’t... have to do this.”

She met his gaze, her eyes blazing with determination. “Yes, I do.”

Rising to her feet, Axia surveyed the chaos around her. Andrew’s men were scattered, some pinning guests against the walls, others locking down the exits. Andrew stood on the upper deck, his gun trained on her, his lips curled into a smug smile.

Axia’s mind raced as she calculated her next move. The years of being coddled and protected had also been years of preparation. Her father and brothers had insisted she learn to defend herself—just in case. Knife skills, firearms training, hand-to-hand combat—all of it flooded back to her now.

She spotted a fallen guard a few feet away, his holster glinting in the low light. Without hesitation, she sprinted toward him, her heart pounding in her ears.

Andrew’s voice cut through the chaos. “Stop her!”

One of his men lunged at her, but Axia sidestepped, grabbing a champagne bottle from a nearby table and smashing it over his head. He crumpled to the floor, and she dove for the gun.

The cool metal felt foreign in her hands for a moment, but muscle memory took over. She released the safety and stood, her stance steady as she aimed at the approaching group.

“Back off!” she shouted, her voice carrying an authority she didn’t know she had.

The men hesitated, glancing at each other uncertainly.

Andrew’s laugh rang out from above. “You don’t have it in you, sweetheart. Put the gun down before you hurt yourself.”

Axia’s jaw tightened. He still thought she was weak. Good. Let him underestimate her.

She fired a warning shot into the air, the sound reverberating through the deck. The men flinched, stepping back, but she didn’t give them time to regroup.

With swift precision, she took out the closest one, her shot grazing his arm and sending him sprawling. Another rushed at her, and she ducked under his swing, slamming the butt of the gun into his temple.

Her movements were fluid, instinctive. For the first time, she understood what it meant to be Salerno blood.

Victoria appeared, her face twisted with rage. “You think you can play hero, Axia? You’re out of your depth!”

Axia turned to face her, her eyes cold. “Try me.”

Victoria lunged, her knife flashing in the dim light. Axia sidestepped the attack, grabbing a fallen chair and using it to block Victoria’s next strike.

The two women clashed in a brutal dance, their movements sharp and deadly. Axia’s training kicked in, her mind focused on every move, every opening.

Victoria sneered. “You think Daddy’s lessons make you tough? You’re nothing but a scared little girl!”

Axia countered with a swift kick, sending Victoria staggering. “And you’re nothing but a bitter shadow.”

Preston’s voice broke through the haze. “Axia... behind you!”

She spun just in time to see another attacker charging at her. Grabbing Victoria’s fallen knife, she flipped it in her hand and threw it with precision, the blade embedding itself in his shoulder.

The man collapsed with a groan, and Axia turned back to Victoria, who was now struggling to her feet.

“Give it up,” Axia said, her voice steady. “You’ve lost.”

But Victoria laughed, blood trickling from her lip. “You don’t get it, do you? This isn’t about winning. This is about sending a message.”

From above, Andrew’s voice cut through the moment. “That’s enough, Victoria. Let me handle her.”

Victoria smirked, retreating to the shadows as Andrew descended the stairs, his gun aimed directly at Axia.

He clapped slowly, his steps deliberate. “Impressive. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Axia leveled her gun at him, her hands steady. “You don’t know anything about me.”

He shrugged. “Maybe not. But I know enough to see you’re not walking out of here alive.”

Her finger hovered over the trigger, her mind racing. She couldn’t let him win. She couldn’t let him destroy her family.

“Put it down, Axia,” Andrew said, his voice dripping with false charm. “You’re not a killer.”

Her grip tightened. “You don’t know what I am.”

The standoff felt eternal, the world narrowing to the two of them. Axia’s heart pounded as she considered her options, the weight of the moment pressing down on her.

“Last chance,” Andrew said, his tone turning icy. “Drop it, or I drop you.”

Axia took a deep breath, her resolve hardening. She had to end this.

Before she could act, a gunshot rang out, the sound deafening. Axia flinched, expecting pain, but none came.

Andrew staggered, his eyes wide with shock as blood blossomed across his chest.

Preston stood behind him, his gun smoking, his face pale but determined. “Don’t... touch her,” he growled.

Andrew collapsed, his gun clattering to the ground.

Axia rushed to Preston’s side, tears streaming down her face. “You’re hurt.”

He gave her a faint smile. “It’s... nothing.”

She pressed her hands to his wound, her mind racing. “Stay with me, Preston. Please.”

But before she could say more, a voice rang out over the chaos.

“Hands where I can see them!”

Axia looked up to see a new group of armed men storming the deck. But these weren’t Andrew’s men. Their uniforms were familiar—too familiar.

Her heart sank as she realized who they were.

The Federal Agents!