She took the gun Enrica handed her and indicated for the others to get inside the butcher shop. She was certain those inside had already called the police. Amo pushed Lucia and Nicoletta ahead of him and turned back with the shotgun. Signora Moretti stayed as well. The butcher, Berardo Giordano, stepped out carrying a gun as well. Emmanuelle felt a little hysterical. Her little village was the Wild West.

Val glanced over his shoulder, groaning as he saw the others. He didn’t ask questions and he didn’t order Emmanuelle inside again, but he stayed close to her, so close she could feel the heat of his body – and his anger. He reloaded, rolled to one side and snapped off two quick shots. The moment he did, Enrica fired as well. Emmanuelle took her time, waiting as Val’s two shots hit their marks, one in the foot and one through the throat as the man hopped out into the open.

Enrica’s shot took out one of the three men running toward them. Amo’s shotgun boomed and Signora Moretti’s smaller revolver spat. Everything tunneled for Emmanuelle. Shadows connected everywhere, the runners and those hiding unable to keep their shadows from connecting with the tubes. They had no idea she had an exact map to each location.

She glanced at Enrica. Enrica nodded. Emmanuelle stepped out from behind the safety of the van and squeezed the trigger as if she had all the time in the world. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Bodies dropped. She stumbled back, feeling faint. Val caught her around the waist and dragged her behind cover as return fire sprayed all around her.

The jerking on her body sent another black wave through her. Vision clouded. Bile rose. She was going to go down. Desperate, she caught Val’s arm. “Get the others to safety.” She choked out the plea. Her knees went weak and she found herself falling.

Val caught her up, cradling her weight in his arms. “Berardo, Enrica, keep them pinned down. Signora Moretti, I’ll need you and the kid to stop this bleeding. Call an ambulance. Tell the police to step it up, we’re taking heavy fire.”

“Shooter on the roof on the main street across from Lucia’s Treasures,” Emmanuelle managed. She couldn’t feel her body. It was one giant pain, but she had no real knowledge of where her fingers and toes were.

“Shut the fuck up, Emme,” Val snapped. “I could strangle you right about now. What the hell was that? You trying to commit suicide?”

She would have smiled if she could have. Same old rude Val, even when she’d been shot. Every step he took jarred her body and sent more pain crashing through her. She had to clench her teeth to keep from vomiting all over him. She saw Nicoletta and Lucia as Val hurried past them, their faces white, eyes wide with shock when they saw the blood running down her arm and shoulder, soaking into her suit and covering Val’s shirt.

“Here, Val,” Claretta Giordano said. She pointed to a couch set up in the back room. She raised her voice. “Angelina Laconi! I need you right now.” Angelina’s parents owned the kitchen shop and she was a nurse. Her younger brother, Pace, was a senior in high school. Pace and Angelina hurried from the front of the butcher shop to the back as more shots were fired outside.

“You have to get out there, Val,” Emmanuelle whispered. “And don’t forget the one on the roof across the street.”

Val placed Emmanuelle carefully on the couch. “I’ve got this. Your brothers should be showing up soon. They’ll get the one on the roof.”

“I think they’re under attack as well,” she said. “We can’t count on them coming.”

He frowned. “All of them? Someone’s going after your family?”

She didn’t take her eyes from his and she nodded. Waiting. Hoping. She saw the fierce anger in him covered immediately. He caught up his phone as he pushed the hair that was spilling onto her forehead back, his fingers surprisingly gentle. “I’ve got this,” he repeated. “For once in your life, let someone help you.”

She didn’t have much choice, but she kept the gun handy. Shockingly, she hadn’t dropped it. He turned away from her, texting fast as he rushed outside. She knew he was checking with his father, making certain that Giuseppi hadn’t ordered a hit on all of them. For the first time, she wished Val’s cousin Dario, the man always acting as his bodyguard, was there. He’d keep Val safe and fight on their side just to do so – and he was fierce with any weapon.

“I can help,” Nicoletta said, pushing past Lucia to get to Emmanuelle’s side.

Angelina was tearing at Emmanuelle’s suit. Claretta handed her scissors. Already the sound of sirens was loud in the distance. She heard running feet – more of the nearby business owners rushing to help. They were all coming. Everyone. Leaving their stores to make certain their neighbors were safe.

Then Giovanni was there, bending over her. “You okay, baby?”

She’d never been so glad to see her brother. “Shooter on the roof across the street,” she whispered. It was so good to see him alive. She’d been so scared.

“I’ll get him. Taviano’s outside with the others.”

Angelina all but pushed him away. There was no time to tell him Val had helped, that it couldn’t be the Saldis. There was no way Giuseppi Saldi would allow his son to go anywhere without a bodyguard if he was going to war with the Ferraro family. Val might not know that, but she did.

She caught Giovanni’s hand as he moved back to allow Angelina to work on the wound. “Anyone else check in?”

Giovanni shook his head. He wasn’t about to tell her that Taviano and he had immediately left the scene, riding shadows as fast as possible to get to her. She was their only sister. It was ingrained in them to protect the women. She could produce riders. Nicoletta could produce riders. More than any others, they had to keep them safe. That was the reason they would use, if asked. The truth was, Emmanuelle was their beloved sister and they would protect her at all costs. She was every bit as good as they were at taking care of herself, but that didn’t stop them. Emmanuelle would be furious if she knew they’d come for that reason.

He left his sister reluctantly, turning his back on the firefight happening in the alley. He had to get to the sniper on the roof. If Emme said he was there, then he was. He texted Stefano again, and then Ricco with the information that Emmanuelle had been shot and the attack was still going on. He didn’t like leaving Nicoletta and Emmanuelle without a seasoned marksman in the room. Taviano and Enrica were outside. Val was as well. It would have been difficult to ask for help from a Saldi, but he would have done it.

He pulled Nicoletta aside, ignoring her wince and her instinctive retreat, trying to pull away from him. “Have you ever shot a gun?” he whispered.

She nodded. “Amo’s been showing me sometimes.”

The Ferraros should have been the ones to show her. They would have to address her training after they figured out who the hell was after them. He shoved his favorite weapon in her hands. “One’s in the chamber. The safety is on. This is how you take it off. Leave it on unless you intend to fire it. You have a full magazine. Don’t shoot unless you know what you’re shooting at, but you protect yourself and Emme and Lucia. You got that? Don’t waste time talking or warning. Just fucking fire if you have to. Understand?”