<-I-L-A-<<< The sound of gunshots jolted me out of my sleep. It took a while to understand where I was and what was going on. I had fallen asleep in the car as the meet up was happening.

More gunshots that came from the distance turned my blood cold. It came from the direction I saw Marcella, Matteo, Aiden, and Gio walked towards. Without thinking, I fumbled with the car keys and started the engine. I drove, following the sound of gunfire in hopes of it leading me to my friends.

Realizing what I was planning to do, I stepped on the breaks. Halting the car out of nowhere to sort out my brain. Was I really going to drive straight into a gunfight?

Adrenaline flowed as I thought of the danger Marcella, Matteo, Aiden, and Giovanni faced. Leaving all hesitation behind, I stepped on the gas pedal and sped forward. My panic level rose little by little as I passed by empty alleys. Where were they?

Jumping out of an alley without any warnings, a man in all black ran out on to the street. I slammed on the breaks, stopping the car before it could hit him. Even with my seatbelt to restrain me, the force sent me forward and my head hit the steering wheel. Pain spread all over my skull and I groaned. That was going to leave a bruise. I recovered and honked at the guy. He cursed and gave me the middle finger before scurrying off. If it weren't for my headlights, the guy would have been a goner.

I looked to my left and into the space between the two buildings where the man had run out of. Besides Marcella, Matteo, Gio, and Aiden, there were about 15 other people. None of them recognizable from Il Bisbiglio. In which it meant that they must be outnumbered by the Furfanti. They were all separated from each other, shooting at the Furfanti that circled in on them.

I gasped as I saw Matteo fired his gun. The bullet planted itself into a man and the guy went limp, falling to the ground.

>>>-M-A-T-T-E-O->

Light suddenly brightening the dark alley caused all of us to pause. Everyone lowered their gun slightly as they stilled and looked at the entrance of the alleyway. A silhouette of a car appeared behind the shining headlights that had entered and stopped.

Was it the Furfanti's backup?

The car started to move. Instead of backing out, it drove straight towards us. The car approached slowly at first but it began to pick up speed.

Shocked, the Furfanti began to back up.

"Correre!" Vernon yelled, telling his men to run in Italian.

I made eye contact with Marcella.

"Ila?" she mouthed the question.

I squinted and shield my eyes from the headlights with my hands. I caught a glimpse of the license plate.

"Guys, get in." I yelled for Marcella, Gio, and Aiden to hear.

<-I-L-A-<<<

The Furfanti took it upon themselves to shoot at the car as they backpedaled.

Fortunately, the bullets didn't break through the windows. I had already guessed it was bulletproof. It didn't stop me from flinching as the bullets hit the body of the car. With my safety assured, I drove deeper into the alley. As I advanced on them, they began to back off.

However, Marcella, Matteo, Giovanni, and Aiden got the idea and headed towards me. As soon as I stopped, they hurried into the car. Matteo was first to get in, hopping into the passenger seat. His ear was covered in blood from a cut Matteo had on the side of his head.

"Oh my gosh, Matteo, are you okay?" I asked as the others piled into the car.

"Drive, Ila," Matteo yelled as he angrily slammed his fist on the dashboard. "Damn it, just drive."

I turned around, quickly scanning the backseat of the car to make sure that everyone was here. Then, I sped off.

The tension that hung in the air was daunting. I could feel the anger radiating from everyone in the car.

"Sacco di merda." Matteo cursed in Italian.

I heard this phrase frequently around the house and knew it translated to "sack of shit".

>>>-M-A-T-T-E-O-> What is it about getting attacked of guard? It's two for two now. I looked to my left, Ila was focused on driving. We passed a familiar sign which meant we were roughly 30 minutes away from the house.

I peered over my shoulder. Marcella was on her phone, unhurt. Next to her, Aiden and Giovanni had fallen asleep. They were covered in blood but I assumed it wasn't theirs. If it was from their cuts, they'd be complaining nonstop about their injuries.

It brought attention to my wound. I opened the car's sun visor and looked at the little mirror in the center of it. By now, the blood had dried.

"Is it bad?" Ila asked.

"You tell me," I said. I wasn't the one with a medical degree.

Ila lifted her right hand off the steering wheel and held my chin to keep me from moving as she examined my cut.

"How did you get it?" She asked.

"I don't know."

"It looks like a bullet grazed you," Ila guessed. "You're lucky. It could not have missed you and you would've been dead."

Lucky? I thought about how things would have been different if Ila had not come along. We were outnumbered by a lot and would have been killed by the Furfanti if Ila had not thought of driving to save us.

This wasn't the first time Ila saved my ass. She helped me the night Stollo stabbed me. I remembered my first impression of her. I had thought she was an angel sent from a high divinity.

I stared at her, getting glimpses of her faces as light from the headlights of passing cars on the freeway revealed her face from the darkness.

For sure, it wasn't me that was lucky. Maybe it was Ila that made me lucky? An angel that was good luck to keep by one's side.

We pulled up to the mafia house around 2:30 in the morning. Aiden, Marcella, and Gio left the meet unscratched and parted to their rooms. I, on the other hand, ended up in Ila's office. I sat on one of the hospital beds as I waited for Ila to put on her blue latex gloves.

"This time, you don't need stitches," Ila said.

With cotton balls and a pair of tweezers, she began to dab on and around the cut. After getting all the blood off, she dipped a cotton swab in a liquid that caused a burning sensation on the wound.

"We need it to dry before bandaging it." Ila told me. "In the meantime, can I look at my other artwork?"

"Artwork?" I asked, amused that she referred her stitching of Stollo's stab as an "artwork."

I lifted up my shirt, revealing the scar. Ila ran her gloved fingers over it as she examined.

<-I-L-A-<<< "Did the stitches fall out themselves or?" I asked. The stitches used were dissolvable within two to three weeks. It was enough time for the wound to heal with the help of the stitches.

"Lorenzo took them out." Matteo explained, "Before you came, he was kind of like our doctor. He'd patch us up but he never went to medical school or anything."

"It healed nicely," I told him. Although, there was a huge scar that was left behind but that was inevitable. "Try not to get stabbed there again. It hurts worse the second time it opens."

<~> Please show much love by voting, following, sharing and commenting.

It's a short chapter but I wanted this segment to be on its own.

Good news: I'm on summer break. This means I get more time to work on the book :)