AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Eventually, Vittorio moves. His fingers rise up to graze where I just struck him. He inspects his fingertips like he expects to find blood there, though unfortunately, I didn’t hit him hard enough for that.
His face roils and burns like some monstrous thing hidden beneath burlap. I don’t know what’s going to burst out: rage or curses or cold, furious death.
He sighs with disappointment. “So much for the quiet obedient archetype of a perfect woman. It seems you need to be taught a lesson, same as my useless daughter.”
He raises his own hand to return the favor I just gave him. To be honest, I’m actually relieved—I can handle a slap or two. If he thinks that is what will break me, he is dead fucking wrong.
I just make sure to tighten my hold on Mischa so he’s not hurt.
And then?—
“You so much as touch my wife and I’ll make you eat every finger on that hand before I cut your throat from ear to ear.”
Vittorio’s hand freezes in place as we all whirl towards the doorway where my husband stands. Tall and proud and undeniable, his expression black with fury.
I want to be relieved. I want to fall into his arms and cry tears of joy.
But I can’t. Not yet.
Because every single man in this room is loyal to the Zanetti don.
Every single man in this room has a weapon in their hands.
Every single man in this room is ready to unleash death in every direction as soon as Vittorio gives the order.
And I’m standing in the center of it all with my infant son.
47
DMITRI
“I wouldn’t be so quick to threaten the man who has your wife and child in hand.”
“I’m not particularly frightened of your hands, Vittorio,” I answer coolly. “And you’re running out of additional help.”
That gets his attention. His eyes flare wide as he glances around to realize that, while he was gawking at me in the front entryway, my men were infiltrating the house from every other side. The army he thought stood at his back is now gagged and bound on the floor, my troops standing tall over them.
“What—”
“Like I said, it’s over, Vittorio. You’ve used up your last life. But if you let Wren walk over to me, I promise to take it quickly.”
He glowers. “That’s not as attractive an offer as you think it is, Egorov.”
“Considering what I have planned for your death, I’d grab it now while it’s on the table. Better to live as a coward than die a brave man.”
“That’s where you and I differ,” he snarls, skin pale and eyes wild.
“We differ in many ways,” I remark as I saunter toward him with my gun held loosely. “For example, I would move mountains to protect my child—whereas you would throw yours to the wolves in an instant if it meant saving your own skin.”
Vittorio nods triumphantly. “And if I’m willing to do that with my own flesh and blood… think what I’m capable of doing with yours.”
He raises his hand and strokes back a lock of Wren’s hair. She shudders silently but doesn’t move. I want to reassure her, but I can’t—not yet. Not until I’ve made the world safe for her and our son.
Stay strong, baby. I’m almost done.
“How did you find me?” Vittorio asks, as though he can’t stop himself from asking.
“I had a little help.”
