Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 84756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
There’s a lone fucker with a submachine gun hiding behind the pillar.
Not knowing the whereabouts of the rest of my team, I shout, “Where the fuck are you?”
“DJ’s booth,” Renzo yells.
Fuck, they don’t have a clear shot of the bastard.
Suddenly Carlo darts out from behind our hiding place, and my heart fucking stops as I watch him slide across the floor before he ends the fucker with a kill shot to the head.
When he climbs to his feet, I nod at him with pride filling my chest, then I shout at the others, “Get your asses out here.”
Carlo catches up to me as I head for the stairs, and when we’re heading up them, I mutter, “Good job.”
“Thanks,” he breathes as he reloads his gun.
Halfway up, I glance behind me where Angelo and Big Ricky are, then I see Dario running toward us while Renzo keeps an eye out for any stragglers.
This is too fucking easy.
As soon as the VIP area comes into view, my eyes lock on Miguel. He’s seated at a table, with his men forming a half circle around him.
What the fuck is he playing at?
“Did you really have to go to all this trouble?” Miguel asks, his eyes locked on me.
“Yes,” I mutter as I pull out a chair and take a seat at the table. Looking at Carlo, I nod toward the bar.
I turn my gaze back to Miguel, and staring at the fucker, I let out a sigh. “All you had to do was listen, but no, you had to be stubborn and come into our territory.”
“There’s a lot of money to be made in New York,” he says. “The deal still stands.”
I notice the sweat beading on his forehead.
Carlo places a tumbler of whiskey down on the table, and picking it up, I take a sip.
When I set the tumbler down again, I murmur, “As good as a thirty percent share sounds, I have to decline.”
My eyes narrow on the fucker, and unable to hold back a second longer, my arm flies up, and I pull the trigger. I watch as the bullet hits him right between the eyes. His head snaps back, and his mouth drops open.
Intense satisfaction pours into my chest as I watch him drop dead to the floor.
As the bullets start to fly, Dario plows into me, and the fucker tackles me off the chair. Hitting the floor, his knee slams into my thigh.
The gunfight doesn’t even last a minute, and when the last of Miguel’s men drops dead, Dario moves off me and slumps down on the floor beside me.
“Christ,” he mutters.
I lift my hand and hold my thumb and pointer finger an inch apart. “You came this close to kneeing me in the balls, fucker.”
Dario lets out a burst of laughter, then says, “I’m pretty sure I took a bullet for you.”
“What?” I snap, and darting up, I check him for gunshot wounds.
Just as I see the blood on his side, he says, “Flesh wound on my back.”
I shove him before climbing to my feet, “That’s not taking a fucking bullet.” I glance around the area, then ask, “Everyone okay?”
“Yeah, just need to visit the clinic,” Vincenzo, one of Renzo’s men, mutters. “I took a bullet in the leg.”
One of his friends moves closer to help him down the stairs.
I glance at Miguel’s body.
He won’t be the last enemy I have to face, but I’m taking today as a win.
“Let’s go,” I mutter.
“Someone going to give me a hand?” Dario asks where he’s still lying by my feet.
I glance down at him, and shaking my head, I grab hold of his hand and haul him to his feet.
As my friends and men head down the stairs, I reach for the tumbler of whiskey Carlo poured before I killed Miguel and down the amber liquid.
“One down. God only knows how many to go,” Carlo mutters.
I pat his shoulder. “Let’s go home.”
Chapter 27
Gabriella
I startle awake when I’m picked up off the bed.
Grabbing hold of broad shoulders, it takes me a few seconds before I realize Damiano’s carrying me out of my room.
“You’re home,” I say, my voice hoarse with sleep.
“Hmm…” he grumbles.
He stalks into his suite and places me on the bed before he goes to shut the door. The room is dark, but I can see as he comes back to bed.
He lies down beside me, then orders, “Turn on your side. Back to me.”
I do as I’m told, and when his arms wrap around me, and I feel his face press against the back of my neck, a wide smile spreads over my mouth.
I hear him take a deep breath before he lets it out slowly, then his body shudders. An intense energy pours from him, filling the air with tension.
“Are you okay?”
Not saying anything, he only nods.