Page 156 of Missile Strike

Bella’s life—maybe his—depended on it.

Slipping inside, he eased the door closed and gripped his weapon.

Three floors to clear.

He stepped into the first corridor. Overhead lights snapped on with an electronic buzz.

He froze.

Motion lights. Should have realized that.

Fuck it. He had to rely on speed rather than stealth at this point and clear each floor as quickly as possible before Talia knew he was here.

Weapon raised, he slipped down the first corridor.

Crack!

Danny’s head snapped up.

The sound had come from the floor above him.

He knew exactly what it was. His fingers tightened around the grip of his gun, and for a beat, his knees refused to hold his weight.

Bella.

The shot had come close to the elevator banks.

Focus on your training.

He scanned for stairs.

There. His hand closed around the handle as he gently pried open the door to the stairwell, making as little sound as possible, then slowly guided it shut with a muted click.

Isabella swayed on her feet.

Talia had shot at her.

She couldn’t look away from the barrel of the gun—pointed straight at her heart. “Please. Don’t do this.”

Talia’s shoulders dipped a fraction before straightening. “I have to, Izzy, I’m sorry.”

She gestured with the gun toward the flatbed cart parked next to the elevators. “I’m going to need you to bring that back to the storage unit.”

Isabella remained rooted where she was.

Talia’s eyes went cold. “Now.” She lifted the weapon, her finger curling around the trigger. “If I have to shoot you here, where I’ll have a big mess to clean up, I’m going to make it hurt.”

A cold sweat trickled down Isabella’s back. Whoever this woman was, she wasn’t the best friend she’d counted on for the last eight years.

Eight years.

With a resigned sigh, she walked over to the cart, her palms curling over the handle.

“They’ll know it was you, Talia. As soon as Danny realizes I’m missing, he’ll call the police. Olivia Flores will tell them about your connection to Omar Hassan.”

“I know.” Talia lifted her shoulder in a careless shrug. “I’ll reinvent myself somewhere else. I’ve done it before.” She gave a disgusted huff. “If it wasn’t for that reporter and your boyfriend, I wouldn’t have to.” Petulant, like a child who hadn’t gotten her way. “I could have been there for your parents. Been an honorary aunt to your nephew.”

Isabella’s grip tightened on the cart handle at the thought of Talia playing the grieving friend to her unsuspecting family, worming her way into their lives.