Chapter 7 - The Blood on Michigan Avenue
"Sienna, NO!" Sal screamed from the front seat, reaching out to grab her, but he was too late.
Sienna threw the heavy SUV door open and tumbled out into the pouring rain. The freezing storm hit her skin like needles, soaking her silk dress in seconds.
"LORENZO!" she shrieked at the top of her lungs, pointing toward the fire escape above the alleyway.
Lorenzo heard her voice. The sound of her cry broke through the dark, vengeful trance that held him.
Instantly, Lorenzo spun on his heel, raised his left pistol toward the fire escape, and fired three rapid shots into the shadows. The sniper gasped, dropping his rifle, and tumbled over the rusty railing, crashing onto the pavement below.
But the distraction cost Lorenzo.
Hector Navarro raised his silver gun and fired.
A bullet tore through Lorenzo’s left shoulder. The force of the impact spun him around, blood spraying red into the white torrential rain. He dropped to one knee, clutching his shoulder, his teeth bared in agony.
"LORENZO!" Sienna cried out.
She ran across the wet asphalt, ignoring the bullets snapping through the air, ignoring the blood and metal littering the street. She threw her body over Lorenzo, using her own frame to shield him, wrapping her arms around his neck.
Lorenzo looked up, his face slick with rain and sweat, his hazel eyes wide with shock and fury. "What are you doing?!" he roared, his voice cracking. "I told you to stay in the car!"
"I'm not letting you die!" Sienna sobbed, her dark hair plastered to her face, her body trembling against his chest. "I'm not leaving you!"
Across the street, Hector Navarro began to laugh—a high, manic sound that echoed over the storm.
"Look at this!" Hector mocked, stepping over a puddle, aiming his gun directly at Sienna’s back. "The great Lorenzo Bianchi, cowering behind another little girl! History really does repeat itself, doesn't it, Lorenzo? First Sophia, now this one!"
Lorenzo felt Sienna shudder in his arms.
The mention of Sophia's name, combined with the sight of Sienna risking her life to shield him, broke something deep within Lorenzo’s soul. The guilt that had consumed him for three years—the weight of knowing he hadn't been able to save Sophia—was suddenly replaced by an absolute, transcendent clarity.
He was not going to fail again.
With a roar that sounded less like a man and more like a wounded beast, Lorenzo wrapped his right arm around Sienna’s waist, flipping her beneath him, shielding her completely with his body.
In one fluid, impossible motion, Lorenzo raised his right gun from the pavement and fired four bullets straight into Hector Navarro's chest.
Hector’s manic laughter cut off instantly. He blinked, looking down at the four smoking holes in his white linen suit. His silver gun slipped from his fingers, clattering onto the asphalt.
Hector collapsed backward into the rainwater, his eyes staring blankly at the dark Chicago sky.
The remaining Navarro gunmen, seeing their leader dead, broke formation and fled into the alleyways, pursued by the sound of approaching police sirens in the distance.
Silence returned to the street, save for the heavy patter of rain and the wail of distant sirens.
Lorenzo lay over Sienna, his chest heaving, his dark blood pooling into the rain around them, staining her silk dress crimson.
Sienna looked up at him, her hands trembling as she cupped his wet, bloody cheek. "Lorenzo... oh God, Lorenzo, you're hit..."
Lorenzo looked down at her. Pain shot through his shoulder, but he ignored it. His pale eyes searched her face, checking every inch of her for injuries.
"Are you hurt?" he rasped, his voice shaking with an emotion he hadn't felt in a decade. "Did they touch you?"
"No," Sienna sobbed, pressing her forehead against his chest, feeling his heartbeat—strong, fast, and fiercely alive. "No, I'm okay. You saved me."
Lorenzo closed his eyes, resting his forehead against hers in the pouring rain.
"You crazy, beautiful fool," Lorenzo whispered, his voice thick with raw tenderness. "You ran into a gunfight for me."
"I told you," Sienna whispered back, her tears mixing with the rain on her cheeks. "I'm not letting you leave me."
Sal and three surviving enforcers rushed over, forming a protective wall around them.
"Boss! We need to move!" Sal urged, holding a tactical bandage to Lorenzo's bleeding shoulder. "The cops will be here in two minutes!"
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Lorenzo didn't look at Sal. He kept his eyes locked on Sienna, reaching out with his uninjured arm to lift her effortlessly into his lap.
"Take us to the safehouse in Barrington," Lorenzo ordered softly, his eyes never leaving Sienna’s face. "The war is over."
