Audra's eyes meet mine through her tears. She's sobbing openly now, chest heaving against the band across it, but there's fire in her gaze too. She mouths the words again.I love you.
I nod once, barely perceptible, willing her to hold on just a little longer. The Collector's voice returns, almost playful. "Beg, Gabriel. On your knees. Like your sister did. Maybe I'll let the girl live."
Hot rage moves through my body. Red colors my vision. I don't kneel. But for her? I'd walk on hot coals straight into hell. I take another step forward, hands open at my sides, eyes never leaving Audra's.
"Whatever you want," I lie, but as my vision turns redder, it's becoming harder to control the rage brewing inside me. The same rage that consumed me at the warehouse and made me rip men apart. I can't lose it here, though. Not now. Not with Audra right there. Tied to a chair. I fight the raging fire inside me, keep talking to ground myself. "You're going to pay for every drop of blood she's lost."
Razor snorts. "Pathetic."
Audra shakes her head violently, tears streaming. "Gabe—no! Don't!"
I keep moving toward her anyway. Because she is worth every second of this. And when the moment comes, when the Collector finally shows his hand or one of these bastards makes a mistake, I'm going to paint these walls red and carry her out of here myself.
"Enough of this pathetic show," he snarls.
He raises the gun and points it straight at my head. I don't flinch. I don't look at the barrel. I look at her. Audra's eyes are wide, filled with raw terror, love, and desperation. She's still fighting the ties, blood running down her wrists and ankles, tears streaming down her face.
"Gabe—" she chokes out, voice breaking. "No—please?—"
I hold her gaze. Steady. Unbreakable.
"I love you," I tell her, soft and clear, the words meant only for her, even though the whole room can hear them. "Always have. Always will."
Razor laughs. "How fucking sweet."
But instead of pulling the trigger, his hand shifts. The gun, once aimed at me, snaps toward Audra. "Let's see her bleed some more first."
NO!
The word doesn't leave my mouth. It detonates inside my skull. Everything else disappears. The room. The men. The noise. Gone. There is only her. Blood on her skin. Terror in her eyes. The way her body jerks against the restraints like she can fight her way to me.
No one touches her. No one hurts her. Not while I'm still breathing. I move. Not planned. Not calculated. Pure instinct. I throw myself forward, lunging for Razor, ready to take him down, to break him, to tear him apart with my bare hands ifthat's what it takes; he's faster than I want him to be. The bastard pivots. The gun swings. A flash. A deafening crack, and pain slams into me. Hard. Violent. Explosive. It steals the air from my lungs and rips the ground out from under me. I don't even feel myself fall. Just the impact. The burn. The sudden, brutal weight of my own body betraying me. Audra screams.
It cuts through everything.
Through the ringing in my ears. Through the haze, trying to drag me under. I hit the floor hard, vision fracturing, blurring at the edges, but I force my head up. Force my eyes open. Find her. Always her.
One leg is finally free. The zip tie snapped after endless grinding against the sharp metal edge of the chair. My ankle is shredded, blood is running down my foot to pool on the concrete, but I barely feel the pain. All I feel is panic. My heart is hammering so hard I'm convinced it's going to explode. Each beat is a sledgehammer against my ribs. I can't breathe right. The band across my chest is too tight, the air too thin, the room keeps spinning at the edges. And Gabe keeps coming closer. Step by slow, deliberate step. What the hell is his plan? He's unarmed. He dropped his guns. He's walking straight into the lion's den with nothing but his bare hands and that terrifying calm in his eyes.
I plead with him silently, eyes wide, tears streaming, shaking my head as hard as I can.Don't. Please don't. Turn around. Go.But I already know there's no turning back.
He came. He came for me. Even though he knew they would kill him. What kind of man does that? Gabe, apparently.
The man who stalked me for months but never forced me. The man who sent gifts and arranged a ball for me because he couldn't stay away. The man who made love to me this morning like I was the center of his universe and then told me he loved me like it was the simplest, most undeniable truth in his world.
He takes another step.
His mouth is moving, he's saying something low and steady, eyes locked on mine, but I can't hear the words over the roaring in my ears. My heart hurts so much it feels like it's being crushed in a vise. I can't lose him. I can't. Not him. Not the man who woke me up after years of sleepwalking through my own life. Not the man who makes me feel alive and wanted and seen in a way Pete never could.
I love him.
The words slam into me with brutal force, no more hiding, no more guilt, no moreit's too soon. I'm madly, desperately, impossibly in love with Gabriel D'Amato. The possessive mafia boss. The dangerous, obsessive, beautiful monster who would burn the world down for me.
And he's about to die because of it.
Razor shifts beside me. "How fucking sweet."
I catch the change in his expression, the smirk, the sharpening, and narrowing of his eyes. I've seen it before. His finger tightens on the trigger.
