The second chapter just like I promised and please comment your thoughts I like reviews on each chapter it gives me motivation on how to write the next chapter and also don't forget to vote

Rosalia's POV

I don't know how long I stood frozen after the gun went off. My hands trembled violently, the weapon slipping through my fingers and clattering onto the floor. The smell of gunpowder stung my nostrils, sharp and suffocating. My towel was loose around my body, but I didn't care. My entire skin crawled with the memory of his disgusting touch, the sting of his slap still burning across my cheek.

Blood gushed from his thigh, staining the sheets, dripping onto the floor. He groaned and cursed, but all I could hear was the pounding of my heart. My knees shook so badly I thought they would collapse beneath me.

"You... you tried to kill me," I whispered, my voice thin, barely mine.

The man laughed through his pain, cruel and broken. "Bitch, you think this is over? You'll regret that trigger pull."

That laugh pushed me over the edge. I tightened my grip on the gun with both hands, raising it again. The fear inside me flickered, replaced by something harder rage. My finger squeezed the trigger a second time.

Bang.

He screamed, this time louder, as the bullet tore into his shoulder. His threats faltered into curses and choked groans. I stood over him, my chest heaving, eyes wild. I should have felt guilt, horror at what I'd done. But all I felt was satisfaction.

"You don't get to call the shots anymore," I spat. "When Luca's men come, you'll wish I had ended it for you."

For the first time, I saw fear in his eyes. He looked at me differently not as prey, but as something unpredictable, dangerous.

The door burst open. Rocco stormed in with two guards, weapons drawn. They froze at the sight: me, half-naked in a towel, holding a gun steady, and the intruder bleeding on the bed. Their eyes widened.

"What the fuck happened here?" Rocco barked.

My body sagged. Relief and fury collided inside me. "What happened? This!" I screamed, pointing at the man. "He broke into my room. He tried to—" My voice cracked. I couldn't say the word. My throat burned. "If I hadn't grabbed his gun, I'd be I swallowed hard. "I shot him. Twice. Because none of you were here to stop him."

For a second, Rocco said nothing. His jaw tightened, his fists clenched at his sides. Then he muttered something in Italian to the guards. They hurried forward, ripping the weapon from my hands gently but firmly. One of them grabbed the bleeding intruder, dragging him off the bed and to his knees.

Rocco's face was unreadable, but his eyes were ice. "Take that bastard to the torture room. Tie him up. He doesn't die until Luca gets back."

The guards nodded, hauling the man away as he left a bloody trail across the floor.

I stood there shaking, arms wrapped around myself. My towel had slipped dangerously low, but I didn't care. I felt raw, exposed, violated even though I had fought back. My hands were stained with his blood
metaphorically and literally.

Rocco glanced at me once more, expression flat. "Go to Giovanna," he said curtly. "She'll take care of you."

I wanted to scream at him, curse him, tell him his men had failed me, but my voice was gone. My legs carried me on autopilot out of the room and down the hall, straight into Giovanna's open arms.

Giovanna's POV

When the guard brought Rosa into my room, her face was pale, her towel clutched like a lifeline. My heart broke instantly.

"Oh, my poor dear," I murmured, rushing to her side. She wouldn't even meet my eyes, just collapsed into the chair, shaking.

"Get out," I snapped at the guard. "I'll handle her."

Once he was gone, I fetched a sweater and a soft nightdress from my wardrobe. "Here, child. Put these on. You must be freezing."

She whispered a shaky thank you, slipping into the clothes with trembling hands.

I sat beside her and stroked her hair gently. "You're safe now. Do you hear me? You're safe."

But her eyes told me she didn't believe it.

Rocco's POV

The moment Rosa was gone, I turned to the guards. Rage boiled in my chest so fiercely I could barely think straight.

Chain him. I don't care if he bleeds out a little, but he doesn't fucking die until Luca says so. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

They dragged the bastard down the hall, leaving streaks of blood across the polished floor. I pinched the bridge of my nose. Luca had left Rosa in my care. My responsibility. And I had failed.

If Luca found out when he found out he'd lose his shit.

I pulled out my phone and dialed. My hands were clammy, but my voice was steady.

"Hello, Rocco."

"Boss," I said stiffly. "I have bad news."

His tone sharpened instantly. "What happened?"

"A man broke into the house. He molested Rosalia."

Silence. Heavy, dangerous silence.

Then: "What?"

"He's alive," I said quickly. "Tied up in the torture room. Rosa defended herself she shot him. Twice."

Another silence, longer this time. I could hear Luca breathing, sharp and steady, like a predator holding back a snarl.

Finally, his voice cut through, deadly calm. "I'll be back in Chicago tomorrow night. Don't kill him. Keep him breathing. I'll handle him myself."

"Yes, boss."

The call ended. My chest felt tight, my throat dry. Luca was furious I knew it. And when Luca was furious, someone always paid.

I just prayed it wouldn't be me.

Writer's POV

On the other end of the line, Luca lowered the phone slowly, his knuckles white from gripping it too hard. His men standing nearby went completely silent, sensing the storm in him. The vein on his forehead pulsed. He downed his whiskey in one gulp, the glass cracking in his hand.

The shipment in Mexico, the meetings, the deals none of it mattered anymore.

Rosalia had been touched.

And for that, someone would burn.