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Savage already had the detonator in hand, the safety switched off.
He pushed the trigger on it, watching in the rearview mirror as a sudden fireball ignited and the whole place exploded against the night sky. The percussion made the Pagani jump on the pavement, but he held the wheel and pushed the pedal to the floor.
He couldn’t deny his satisfaction at seeing the fiery plume and cloud of black, roiling smoke behind him. He only hoped the explosives did the job as intended. Ordinarily, he’d stick around to make sure his target was neutralized, but not tonight.
Not with precious cargo in tow.
His gaze strayed to Bella. Slumped in her red silk gown on the seat beside him, she slept as peacefully as a kitten, her mind still caught in the web of the trance he’d placed on her. The urge to touch her was too much to resist. Reaching over, he smoothed an errant blonde tendril from her cheek.
ve her a smile that chilled. “I’m not the one in danger. Your lover and his cronies are. I’ve rigged this place to blow sky-high as soon as I hit the detonator in my pocket.”
Oh, God. She swallowed, stricken to hear him admit what she’d already guessed. He was here to kill Vito Massioni.
And she could not let that happen.
Because if Massioni died, he had promised that she and her remaining family would die too.
A muffled rumble of laughter carried from the salon downstairs. Massioni and his guests would be growing restless soon. She’d already been gone too long. She couldn’t risk anyone coming to look for her.
No more than she could risk allowing Ettore the chance to carry out what he’d come here tonight to do.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured, shaking her head as she took a step away from him. “I’m sorry… Ettore, I have no choice.”
Before he could stop her—before he probably even guessed what she was about to do—Bella screamed at the top of her lungs.
Chapter 3
There was barely a second of silence between the sound of Bella’s scream and the pandemonium that followed.
Male voices shouted from the salon below. Heavy boot falls began to thunder from all directions, while outside, perimeter floodlights blinked on, illuminating the villa and its surrounding grounds in a blinding daylight glow.
Holy shit.
He couldn’t believe she’d done it—betrayed his presence to the entire mansion.
Then again, it shouldn’t come as much of a surprise. He had certainly earned her scorn. Arabella Genova owed him nothing anymore, not even an explanation for how she’d ended up on the arm—and possibly in the bed—of a criminal scum like Massioni.
No choice, she’d said.
What the hell did she mean by that?
“Bella—” He reached for her, but she jerked out of his grasp, putting several paces between them.
“Get out, Ettore.” Her soft brown eyes were desperate beneath her furrowed brows. And outside the closed door of her quarters, it sounded as though several of Massioni’s men were already rushing up the stairs to the second floor. She threw an anxious glance over her shoulder at the pounding of approaching feet in the hallway. Her voice was a tight, fearful whisper. “Please, go. Get out of here while you still have a chance!”
Jesus, she was terrified.
And it wasn’t directed at him.
What the hell had that bastard done to her?
Savage ground out a curse, feeling precious seconds tick by. He had a mission to carry out tonight—and he would—but not until Bella was safe and secured. Whether or not she intended to cooperate with that plan.
