His Bride Of Revenge

**Elena's POV** Someone should have warned me that tonight might be the night I die... or at least almost die. ​ "No… no… no, what was that?” I screamed as glass shattered behind me. "That was obviously a gunshot. Oh God! Not tonight, please.” My heart pounded so hard I thought it might burst. My whole body tensed as the sharp smell of gunpowder filled the car. I pressed the gas pedal hard and gripped the steering wheel tightly, trying to regain control. Through the rearview mirror, I caught a glimpse of two headlights rushing toward me, and my hands instinctively tightened on the wheel. "What am I going to do? Elena, you’ve got to think… think…” My chest tightened, and cold sweat broke out across my forehead, dripping into my eyes, while my palms slipped on the wheel. "Please,” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the engine’s roar. “Please, God, help me.” The street ahead was empty, with streetlights stretching across the wet road. Milan at night looked too peaceful for something like this to be happening. Another shot hit my side mirror, and the glass shattered with a loud crash. I flinched, swerving to avoid losing control.  “Who are you?” I shouted into the night, slamming the steering wheel in frustration. “What do you want from me?” My mind raced with a million thoughts. “I couldn’t just sit here. I had to do something.” My heart raced as I reached for the small black gun from the glove compartment. Papa’s advice echoed in my mind: “Never leave home without it.” Thank goodness I had it with me tonight. I rolled down the window, feeling the wind on my face as I aimed with shaking hands. “Come on,” I whispered, desperation in my voice. “Come closer.” And they did. I fired twice but missed. The SUV swerved but quickly regained control, getting even closer. Just then, my phone vibrated on the dashboard, lighting up with a text from an unknown number. I glanced at the screen for a second. *An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.* “Oh God… I’m in deep trouble.” My hands trembled so violently I could barely hold the wheel. The Lorusso clan.  I’d heard that phrase since I was a kid, whispered at funerals and left as a warning after attacks. They had haunted my family for years with a vendetta that seemed endless. My father had warned me about them constantly, and I saw what they did to my mother. Now they have found me. “Why do I have such horrible luck?”  I couldn’t move, just sat there stunned by the impossible truth that this was really happening. My hand trembled as I raised the gun, my fingers tightening on the trigger. I shot again. This time the bullet shattered their windshield, but they showed no signs of stopping. Then I felt it… a bullet struck my shoulder. Pain exploded through me, making the gun slip from my hand as my right arm went limp.  “Ahhhhh…” I fought back a cry as I gripped the wheel with my left hand, the fabric of my cream shirt growing warm and wet. I pressed the gas pedal down, and the car surged forward, trying desperately to put distance between us. The road blurred as I squinted through the cracked glass. The Palazzo Kiton building flashed past on my left.  “I had to be careful; the road here could be very tricky,” I whispered to myself, forcing my foot to ease up just a little. My thoughts raced, tangled in fear and adrenaline. All I could think about was staying alive. “Help me,” I whispered, not sure who I was asking—God, fate, or anyone who might save me. Then the SUV suddenly rammed into my bumper, jolting me forward so hard that my mouth slammed against the wheel. I tasted blood. “No, this had to end,” I hissed, my jaw throbbing. I swerved hard, trying to lose them, but the SUV stayed right behind me. “Oh no…” I murmured frantically as I realized my mistake. I had forgotten how dangerous this stretch of road could be. My tires screeched as the car lost control. I slammed on the brakes, but it was too late. A tire burst, sending the car flipping over and sliding off the road. Everything spiraled out of control. My body jerked violently, and a brutal impact slammed my head against the steering wheel. Pain erupted as my vision blurred. Then there was complete silence. The seatbelt pressed into my ribs, keeping me in place as a loud ringing filled my ears. Smoke rose from the hood. My head throbbed. Pain stabbed through my shoulder as warm blood trickled down the side of my face. “This wasn’t how I expected today to end,” the thought echoed numbly through my mind. I tried to lift my hands, but they barely moved. All I could hear was my heart pounding. I blinked hard, forcing my eyes to focus. Looking through the cracked windshield, I saw the empty road. The SUV was nowhere in sight. They had left me to die. “Papa,” I forced the word out. “I’m sorry.” My entire body felt heavy and numb. “So this is it." My lips trembled. “This is how it ends.” Pain throbbed in my shoulder with every heartbeat. I sank back, eyes tightly shut, as the harsh truth hit me—I had been foolish to think I could ever truly escape this life. Tears stung my eyes, blurring my vision. I couldn’t tell whether it was fear, regret, or the pain that made them fall. Memories of home flooded my mind, along with my father’s voice: “You’re not ready for the world out there, Elena. You wouldn’t last a night.” Looks like you were right, Papa. Remembering Lucia’s warning earlier that night, a wave of regret washed over me. “Your father wouldn’t like you sneaking out again,” she had said. A soft, bittersweet sound escaped my lips. “You were right, Lucia.” I had spent weeks planning my escape, desperate for a life where I didn’t have to look over my shoulder, where I could make my own choices. But now, bleeding in the wreckage, I felt completely hopeless. Elena Castellano, you really should have stayed home. I tried to reach for my phone, but it was missing, lying somewhere on the floor out of reach. “You wanted freedom, Elena,” I gently scolded myself. “This is the price.” I began to lose consciousness. My breathing slowed, and all I could taste was blood. My chest tightened as everything started to fade. Somewhere far off, I thought I heard a siren, but maybe it was only in my head. As my vision dimmed, one quiet thought drifted through my mind: At twenty-five, I had never even been kissed… and now I was about to die. “This is what it means to be born a Castellano,” I sighed, my breath trembling as everything went dark.