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"Fuck," Callum swears from somewhere behind me, and a moment later I hear him on his phone, issuing instructions to Liam, our driver. At least this exit appears to be clear.
I hold my breath for the next few minutes until the florist’s van we've... 'borrowed' pulls up right beside us. Grabbing Maricela's arm, I hustle her outside while Cal yanks open the sliding door and I push her inside the vehicle. Piling in after her, I almost land on top of the girl, as my brother closes the door behind us.
"It's a bloody three-ring circus out front," Liam tells us, the Irish thick in his voice, giving away his unease. "I'm lucky I got through."
The information is what we'd feared most. That we'd be discovered too soon, and the foot soldiers mobilized.
"I knew we should have brought the frickin' armored car," Callum mutters to no one in particular. "At least we could have stormed our way out. We're sitting ducks in this thing."
He throws a scorching look Maricela's way, as if it's her fault we're in this predicament.
If I expected the girl to wither under his vicious glare, I was wrong... again. She holds his accusing stare and says, with quiet certainty, "There's a turning up ahead on the left. It's a private access leading straight through the cemetery and onto a quiet road behind it."
Liam quirks an enquiring eyebrow as I give him a nod to use the route she's given us. He doesn't quite take her word for it, instead tapping the zoom on the van’s built-in SatNav then following what's actually little more than a graveled track once he's comfortable it's safe.
As we make our escape and put some distance between us and the cathedral, it's like a collective breath is released, lightening the tension in the van.
Now that we're away from prying eyes, I pull off my balaclava and I can feel the girl's gaze on me, assessing and weighing my every move. It makes my skin crawl. I don't like being under someone's scrutiny, especially not when that someone is my captive. Plus, there's something about Maricela that's throwing me off, something I can't quite put my finger on.
I can't help but feel a strange sense of admiration for her. She had the courage to take charge and lead us to safety in a situation where most people would have crumbled in fear.
But as I steal a glance at her, I can see there is fear in her eyes. Some sixth sense tells me this is not something she wanted for herself. I doubt she ever asked to be caught up in the world of the mafia, but her family's ties to the Rossi family have made her a pawn in this game.
I can't help feeling a twinge of sympathy. In a world where loyalty is everything, she's been betrayed by her own family. I can only imagine how alone and powerless she must feel. But there's something about her, a quiet strength that belies her fear, and makes me want to protect her.
I shake the ridiculousness away. What freakish nonsense is this? Ask anyone and they’ll tell you I don’t have a soft bone in my body, never mind a conscience.
Nevertheless, taking this woman suddenly has a five-ring alarm going off in my head. And I know better than to ignore my sixth sense.
But there’s nothing I can do about it now. The game has to be played.
I can only hope it's not something that comes back to bite me.
Chapter Four
MARICELA
I already know from the accent that he's Irish... whoever he is.
Am I apprehensive about allowing myself to be abducted? Of course.
Could I have stopped it? Questionable.
Could these two men have carried me off without my compliance? Certainly.
Would they have managed to pull it off?
Well, I guess that’s the big question. They're armed and had the element of surprise while all the other guests and the majority of the guards were covering the nave since that’s where all the important people in the family were congregated. I might have been the bride, but I have no doubt I'm the most expendable person in today’s proceedings.
Could they have escaped? Not without bloodshed. I think that’s a certainty. They wouldn’t have chosen the route I took them, that’s for sure. So, I guess it’s a fact. I am complicit in my own kidnapping. Only time will tell whether it was a mistake or not.
Could it be any worse?
The relief I feel at not being irrevocably tied to Vito Rossi is real. The only way out of that union would have been in a casket.
Mine, most likely. The Viper might have more than his share of enemies, but snake that he is, he always manages to slither free of them.
While there may be decent people in la Famiglia, my fiancé is definitely not one of them, and neither is his brother, the Don, Salvatore Rossi, himself.
