Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 54160 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 271(@200wpm)___ 217(@250wpm)___ 181(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54160 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 271(@200wpm)___ 217(@250wpm)___ 181(@300wpm)
“Get behind me, Nora.” I kept my voice controlled, tone calm. I couldn’t spook her, or she might bolt. I needed her firmly shielded by my body.
Her hand trembled when she placed it in mine, and I gave her fingers a reassuring squeeze. I wanted to swear to her that I would never give her to Dante, but there would be time for that later. We wouldn’t leave our home with these bastards. Even if it meant taking a bullet myself, I wouldn’t let them anywhere near her.
We took slow, measured steps toward the two men, and they eased back into the corridor. When I reached the threshold to the dance studio, I acted. Grabbing Nora’s hip, I shoved her farther inside the room, to the left so that she was no longer a target in the open doorway.
“Get down!” I barked, lunging at Andrea first—he’d proven to be the more unstable one, so I needed to handle him quickly.
I grabbed his wrist and twisted, drawing on my years of training to disarm the threat. Two shots boomed through the corridor, one from my gun and the other from Federico’s. My bullet ripped through Andrea’s skull, exiting in a bloody splatter against the wood paneled wall. Federico’s bullet grazed my upper arm, a shot to injure but not to kill; he was still obeying Dante’s instructions to bring us in.
It was too late for that. My men would’ve heard the shots, and they’d be here to back me up in seconds. I had less than a minute to interrogate Federico.
I grabbed his elbow and twisted, forcing him to turn away from me as I popped his shoulder out of its socket. He screamed, and his gun clattered to the floor. I kicked it away and shoved him forward, so that his skull cracked against the wall. A crimson smear darkened the wood as he slid to the ground.
While he was disoriented, I grabbed Andrea’s knife that he’d kept hidden in his boot—I’d noted the extra weapon when I’d slowly edged out of the dance studio. I was on Federico in a heartbeat, plunging the blade into his gut. He screamed, back arching in agony.
“Who else on this estate is working with you?” I demanded, my voice loud enough to be heard over his ragged cry, but my tone clipped and controlled.
The threat had been neutralized, and now I needed information.
“No one else!” Federico gasped out.
I twisted the knife. Another guttural scream.
“Tell the truth,” I prompted, ice cold.
“It was just Andrea and me,” he babbled. “That’s all I know. Dante paid us for this a week ago. He’s been waiting for your father to die. Please—”
I swiftly withdrew the knife and plunged it back in, tearing flesh and vital organs.
“I’m sorry… So sorry, Luca. I don’t know anything. Please, you have to—”
The traitor’s pathetic plea was silenced when I wrenched the blade free from his gut and brought it up to his neck in one fluid motion, slitting his throat. Blood sprayed, warming my cheek. It spilled from his ruined throat, pouring over my hand. His mouth opened and closed, his eyes wide and wild. I didn’t bother to watch the light leave them. After his betrayal, Federico didn’t deserve any company in death.
I tossed the knife away and got to my feet just as half a dozen of my men thundered toward me, rushing to answer the sound of the gunshots. I waved at them to stand down.
“I handled it.” I informed them. I toed Andrea’s ruined skull. “Clean this up. Find their friends and question them. Dante has declared war.”
I didn’t wait for them to finish promising to obey. The need to get back to Nora was an itch beneath my skin. I’d pushed her to safety, but two bullets had been fired. If one of them had somehow hit her…
I wouldn’t fail her. I couldn’t. Not again.
Never again.
I would protect what was mine. Nora belonged to me, and I would slaughter anyone who threatened her.
I turned away from my men and stepped back into the dance studio. Nora was pressed against the wall, knees drawn up protectively to her chest and her arms braced over her head. I’d ordered her to get down, and she had. She’d stayed out of the way while I’d handled the fucking traitors who’d dared to try to take her to my worst enemy.
She looked up at me, eyes wide enough that her long lashes brushed her dark brows. Her gaze quickly roved over my body, assessing.
“You’re hurt!” she exclaimed, surging to her feet to grasp my forearm.
I glanced down and found her examining the angry red burn where Federico’s bullet had grazed my upper arm.
I didn’t feel any pain; despite my controlled mask, adrenaline churned through my system, the need for more violence setting my teeth on edge. I’d already destroyed the men who’d tried to take her from me. There was no one left to kill.