Page 105 of Blue in the Deep Blue Sea

He fired a shot into the air.

“I found two lovebirds.”

He grabbed my arm and dragged me forward, forcing me to stumble after him. Oliver rushed to my side, but Lorenzo swung the gun towards him.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Her ankle is sprained. You’re hurting her,” Oliver snapped, staying close enough to steady me whenever I fell.

“This just keeps getting better and better,” Lorenzo said with a grin.

He shoved me towards Oliver, letting him catch me. Then he raised the gun again, aiming it straight at him. He knew Oliver wouldn’t risk doing anything while I was standing beside him.

We moved to the front door of the lighthouse. As it opened, Gianni stood there with Luca. His gaze swept over us, taking in every detail. Me in Oliver’s shirt. Oliver in his trousers with nothing underneath. It didn’t take him two seconds before he lunged.

He grabbed Oliver by the neck and slammed him to the ground, throwing himself on top of him like a lunatic. His fists crashed into Oliver’s face again and again, but Oliver didn’t fight back.

“No!” I shouted.

I limped towards them and grabbed Gianni’s shirt, but the moment I reached him, he shoved me to the ground.

Gianni.My brother pushed me.

The second Oliver saw me fall, he grabbed Gianni’s shirt and rolled him over, driving a hard punch across his face.

“You can hit me all you want, but leave her alone.” He gritted his teeth, one hand wrapped around Gianni’s neck as he shook him. “She’s your sister, you fucking asshole.”

Gianni just laughed.

Maybe we had lost him.

“Sober up.” Oliver slapped his cheek. “She’s hurt.”

Gianni’s eyes shifted to me. I’d pulled my legs to my chest, tears blurring my vision as I watched them fight.

“Do you even know why we’re here?” Oliver shouted. “We almost died searching for your addict ass.”

Oliver stood and walked over to me, holding out his hand. Andrea Bianchi stepped forward too, reaching down to help me up, but I pulled away from the stranger and moved closer to Oliver instead.

“The storm caught the yacht and flipped it over,” Oliver said, taking my hand, his fingers tightening around mine. “Everyone drowned except us.”

“Yacht?” Andrea Bianchi asked. “Deep Blue?”

Oliver nodded.

The old man turned away, dragging a hand over his head before rubbing his fingers through his hair. Then a nervous laugh escaped him.

“We’re all dead.”

He turned to Lorenzo.

“Moretti will be here in an hour. When he finds out a hundred kilos of his golden coke are at the bottom of the sea, he’ll kill us all.”

Gianni staggered to his feet and began pacing around us.

“Dead? All dead?” he muttered.

He snatched the gun from Lorenzo’s hand and pointed it at me.