Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 62590 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62590 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
“What girl?” one of the young women says in a thick Russian accent.
“My girl,” I roar. “The one he came in with.”
“He didn’t bring a girl.”
Cold fear pierces my heart. “What?” I surge to my feet.
She shrinks, and I have to stop myself from advancing on her and scaring her further. “He came alone--no girl.” She shakes her head emphatically.
Fanculo.
“How long ago did he arrive?”
She looks at me blankly.
“When?” I tap my Rolex. “When did he get here?”
“Thirty minutes, no more.”
Thirty minutes. Was that time for him to have sold her to someone? His drug dealer, maybe, since he obviously has a fresh supply. But Bailey had said he was alone.
I run up the steps, two at a time.
“No sign of her upstairs, boss,” Sonny calls down.
“Go sit on the Russian, see if you can make him talk.” I stalk outside.
Outside, the detective still sits in his car, watching. Al’s pulling up. Oh God, how will I tell him his daughter isn’t safe yet? I want to kill the fucking Russian a million times over.
I push the rage down and try to think.
The trunk. The trunk of his car.
That’s where he had the last girl during the game.
I scan the street for the car and see it. I jog toward it without saying anything to Al.
“Where is she?” he snarls, jogging after me.
As soon as I get to the car, I bellow, “Summer?”
“Carlo!” The muffled sound comes from the trunk.
For fuck’s sake. The guy must’ve been so high he forgot about her in the trunk.
“Summer!” I yank on the handle to open the trunk, but it doesn’t yield. “Hang on, cara. I’m going to get you out.”
“Carlo, Carlo, please. Get me out of here.”
Oh God, the fear in her voice makes me want to rip the car apart with my bare hands.
Al shoots the window to the driver’s side out and reaches in to pop the trunk.
I throw it open. Summer lies inside, her hands duct-taped together. Blood covers her face. She blinks at the light, struggling to push herself up.
“Hang on, baby.” My voice shakes as I cut through the tape.
She throws herself into my arms the moment I have her free. “I knew you’d come for me.”
Her words cut me like glass. This was my fault. I’m not the hero here.
“Who did this? Is he still alive?” There’s murder on Al’s face.
My jaw flexes. “Not for long.”
“Where? In there? I’ll take care of it.”
I nod. “I’m getting Summer out of here.” I want to be the one to kill Alexei myself, but Summer’s my priority.
Across the street, Detective Bailey climbs out of his car. I hear sirens in the distance. We’re running out of time.
Al points his gun in the detective’s direction as he walks swiftly toward the door of the house.
“Detective Bailey gave me the address here,” I intercede.
Al drops his arm. “Detective,” he calls out. “I’ll just be a minute.”
“One minute,” Bailey warns.
“Appreciate it.” Don Al stalks into the house, his pistol in his hand, his two soldiers flanking him.
I pass the detective on the way to my Mercedes SUV. “The girls are in the basement. The rest of the house will be clear when we’re through.”
He nods.
“I owe you.”
Detective Bailey shrugs. “Glad you got your girl back.”
Chapter 16
Summer
Carlo carries me to his SUV and eases me into the passenger side seat. He inspects me, his hands frantically moving over my body. “Are you okay, baby? Do I need to take you to a hospital?”
My head hurts from banging against the floor, but my nose stopped bleeding.
“No, no hospital.”
“Did he–” Carlo breaks off, a black rage brewing behind his hazel eyes.
“No,” I say quickly, to alleviate his fear.
“Thank fuck.”
“He was bringing me to his boss, Viktor.”
I shiver, and Carlo shrugs out of his suit jacket and drapes it across me. “I’m going to get us out of here before the cops show, okay, cara? And then I’ll take care of you.”
He shuts the door and runs around to the driver’s side, jumping in and taking off before he’s put on his seat belt.
I drink in the sight of him. His eye is black, and there’s a bruise on his jaw, my beautiful warrior.
“I knew you’d come.”
I see pain in his expression. He’s probably blaming himself for this.
“Carlo–”
He reaches for my hand and pulls my fingers to his lips, kissing them. “It’s okay, bambina. Everything’s going to be okay.”
“Is it?” I croak.
Because I’m less worried about what just happened to me than I am about what’s going on between us. Our bruises will heal, but I need to mend our hearts. I need to make Carlo understand what he means to me. That he’s so much more than I made him believe.
“You mean with us?”
“I’m sorry I screwed up, Carlo--”
“It’s okay, principessa,” he cuts in.
“No wait–just let me finish. I love you, Carlo. I was at your place to try to make you believe it.”