11. Close Call

CHAPTER 11

CLOSE CALL

The safe house was quiet as dawn broke, pale light filtering through the curtains. Enzo stirred, momentarily disoriented by the unfamiliar surroundings. As the events of the previous day came rushing back, a wave of anxiety washed over him.

He reached out instinctively for Matteo's reassuring presence, only to find the bed empty beside him. Panic flared in his chest as he sat up abruptly.

"Matteo?" he called out, hating how small and scared his voice sounded.

The bedroom door opened and Matteo stepped in, a steaming mug of coffee in hand. "I'm here, baby," he said softly, moving to Enzo's side. "Just checking in with Tony and getting some caffeine. Everything's okay."

Enzo let out a shaky breath, relief flooding through him. He reached for Matteo, needing to feel the solid warmth of him. Matteo set the coffee aside and gathered Enzo into his arms, pressing a tender kiss to his forehead.

"I'm sorry," Enzo mumbled against Matteo's chest. "I didn't mean to freak out. It's just..."

"Shh, it's alright," Matteo soothed, running a hand through Enzo's sleep-mussed hair. "After everything that's happened, it's natural to be on edge. But I've got you, baby. You're safe."

Enzo nodded, allowing himself a moment to bask in the comfort of Matteo's embrace. But reality was quick to intrude, and he pulled back with a sigh. "We should probably get up, right? Figure out our next move?"

Matteo's expression turned serious as he nodded. "Yeah. Tony's made some calls, thinks he might have a lead on who's behind the attack at the compound. We need to move fast if we want to stay ahead of this."

As they dressed and prepared for the day ahead, Enzo couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled in his gut. He watched Matteo move about the room, all controlled efficiency and coiled strength, and felt a pang of guilt.

"Matteo?" he said hesitantly. "I'm sorry I dragged you into all this. If anything happened to you because of me, I don't know what I'd?—"

Matteo cut him off with a fierce kiss, his hands cupping Enzo's face. When he pulled back, his eyes were blazing with intensity. "Don't," he said firmly. "Don't apologize for this. I'm exactly where I want to be, Enzo. By your side, keeping you safe. Got it?"

Enzo nodded, a lump forming in his throat at the raw emotion in Matteo's voice. "Got it," he whispered. "I just... I love you, you know? I don't think I've actually said it before, but I do. I love you."

Something soft and vulnerable flickered in Matteo's eyes. "I love you too, baby," he murmured. "More than I ever thought possible. And that's why we're going to figure this out and end the threat. Together."

With one last lingering kiss, they headed downstairs to join Tony. The older man was hunched over a laptop, his face grim as he looked up at their approach.

"Morning, lovebirds," Tony said, a hint of his usual humor peeking through despite the tension. "Hope you're ready for some bad news, because I've got plenty of it."

Enzo's stomach dropped as he and Matteo took seats at the table. "How bad are we talking?"

Tony sighed, running a hand through his graying hair. "Well, the good news is, I think I've identified who's behind the coalition gunning for us. The bad news? It's the Moretti family."

Matteo cursed under his breath, his hand finding Enzo's under the table and squeezing tight. Enzo felt the blood drain from his face. The Morettis were old money, with fingers in every corrupt pie in the city. If they were involved, this was bigger than they'd imagined.

"There's more," Tony continued. "Word on the street is they've put out a hit on you specifically, Enzo. Seven figures, open contract. Every hired gun in the tri-state area is gonna be gunning for you."

Enzo felt like he might be sick. This wasn't just about family business anymore. This was personal. "Why me?" he asked, hating how his voice shook. "Why not go after Dad directly?"

"Because you're the weak link," Matteo said, his voice tight with barely contained rage. "Or at least, that's how they see you. The party boy, the liability. They probably figure taking you out will destabilize your father, make him vulnerable."

Tony nodded grimly. "That tracks with what I've heard. But they underestimated you, kid. And they sure as hell underestimated your bodyguard here."

Enzo looked at Matteo, seeing the determined set of his jaw, the protective fire in his eyes. He felt a surge of love and gratitude for this man who had become his whole world.

"So what's the play?" Enzo asked, forcing steel into his voice. He was done being the liability, the weak link. It was time to prove his worth.

Matteo and Tony exchanged a look, having some silent communication that Enzo couldn't quite decipher. Finally, Matteo spoke. "We need to draw them out. Set a trap, on our terms."

Tony nodded. "I agree. But it's risky. We'll be putting Enzo in the crosshairs."

"No," Matteo growled, his grip on Enzo's hand tightening. "Absolutely not. We're not using him as bait."

Enzo felt a flare of frustration. "Don't I get a say in this?" he demanded. "This is my life we're talking about. My family."

Matteo turned to him, his expression softening. "Enzo, baby, please. It's too dangerous. I can't risk losing you."

The raw emotion in Matteo's voice made Enzo's heart clench. But he stood his ground. "And I can't risk losing you, or Uncle Tony, or anyone else I care about. If there's a chance we can end this, we have to take it. I'm tired of hiding, Matteo. Let me do this."

For a long moment, no one spoke. The tension in the room was palpable as Matteo visibly struggled with the decision. Finally, he let out a heavy sigh. "Fine," he said, his voice rough. "But we do this my way. Every precaution, every safeguard. And if I say abort, we abort. No arguments. Deal?"

Enzo nodded, relief and determination coursing through him. "Deal."

The next few hours were a blur of planning and preparation. They decided to use the docks as their staging ground, playing into the Morettis' expectation that the Riccis would be moving a valuable shipment. Enzo would be visible, seemingly vulnerable, while Matteo and a small team of Tony's most trusted men provided hidden backup.

As evening fell and they prepared to move out, Enzo felt a mix of nervousness and excitement thrumming through his veins. This was it. The moment of truth.

Matteo pulled him aside just before they left, his eyes intense as he cupped Enzo's face in his hands. "Promise me you'll be careful," he said, his voice low and urgent. "Promise me you'll follow my lead, no matter what happens."

Enzo nodded, leaning into Matteo's touch. "I promise," he said softly. "I trust you, Matteo. With my life."

Matteo kissed him then, hard and desperate, like a man facing his own execution. When they broke apart, both were breathing heavily. "I love you," Matteo murmured. "Remember that, no matter what happens tonight."

The drive to the docks was tense, everyone lost in their own thoughts. Enzo found himself going over the plan in his head, trying to anticipate every possible outcome. But nothing could have prepared him for the reality of what was to come.

They arrived at the docks under the cover of darkness. Enzo took his position, trying to look casual and unaware as he pretended to oversee the loading of a shipping container. Matteo and the others melted into the shadows, their presence a reassuring weight even though Enzo couldn't see them.

For a while, nothing happened. The night was quiet save for the lapping of waves against the pier and the distant hum of the city. Enzo was just starting to think maybe they'd gotten it wrong when all hell broke loose.

The first shot rang out, shattering the eerie calm. Enzo instinctively dove for cover behind a stack of crates, his heart pounding in his ears. More gunfire erupted, the sound of return fire from Matteo and the team mixing with the attackers' shots.

"Enzo!" Matteo's voice crackled through the earpiece. "Status?"

"I'm okay," Enzo gasped, trying to keep his voice steady. "Behind cover, near the east side of the warehouse."

"Stay put," Matteo ordered. "We're coming to you."

Enzo peered around the edge of the crates, trying to get a sense of the situation. He could make out shadowy figures moving in the darkness, the muzzle flashes of guns illuminating brief glimpses of the chaos.

Suddenly, a figure loomed over him. Enzo looked up, terror gripping his heart as he stared down the barrel of a gun. The man's face was twisted in a cruel smirk.

"End of the line, Ricci," the gunman sneered.

Time seemed to slow. Enzo saw the man's finger tightening on the trigger, knew with sickening certainty that this was it. He was going to die here, on these dirty docks, without ever seeing Matteo again.

But then a blur of motion caught his eye. Matteo, appearing as if from nowhere, tackled the gunman with a roar of fury. The gun went off, the bullet whizzing past Enzo's ear close enough that he felt the displaced air.

Matteo and the attacker grappled on the ground, trading vicious blows. Enzo scrambled to his feet, looking for a way to help. He spotted the fallen gun and lunged for it, his fingers closing around the grip just as another shot rang out.

For a moment, everything went still. Enzo turned, the gun heavy in his hand, to see Matteo and the attacker frozen in a macabre tableau. Then, slowly, the gunman toppled backwards, a dark stain spreading across his chest.

Matteo staggered to his feet, one hand pressed to his side. Even in the dim light, Enzo could see the blood seeping between his fingers.

"Matteo!" Enzo cried, rushing to his side. "Oh God, you're hit. We need to get you out of here."

Matteo shook his head, his jaw clenched in pain. "Not yet. Have to... finish this."

As if on cue, more gunshots echoed from the other side of the warehouse. Matteo straightened, his face a mask of determination despite the obvious agony he was in. "Stay behind me," he growled, pushing Enzo back towards cover.

What followed was a blur of violence and adrenaline. Enzo watched in awe and terror as Matteo moved through the battlefield like an avenging angel, taking down attackers with brutal efficiency despite his injury. Enzo did his best to provide cover fire, his hands shaking but his aim surprisingly true.

Finally, after what felt like hours but was probably only minutes, silence fell. The last of the attackers lay motionless on the ground, and the sound of approaching sirens filled the air.

"We need to move," Tony's voice came through the comm. "Cops'll be here any minute."

Enzo turned to Matteo, ready to help him to the car, only to find the older man swaying on his feet. "Matteo?" he said, alarm coloring his voice.

Matteo's eyes, glazed with pain, focused on Enzo's face. "Baby," he mumbled. "You okay?"

Then his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed. Enzo barely managed to catch him, crying out at the dead weight in his arms.

"Help!" he shouted, panic clawing at his throat. "Somebody help me!"

As Tony and the others rushed to their aid, Enzo cradled Matteo's unconscious form, whispering desperate pleas for him to hold on. The night air was thick with the smell of gunpowder and blood, and in that moment, Enzo knew nothing would ever be the same again.