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"Everything you have." Freddie lowers his chin to his chest. "Your father took credit for my crime. It was a perfect crime. The kidnapping of seven young boys in London. Scions of the richest families in London. The notoriety alone should have ensured I was known to every lawbreaker in the underworld. The money from the ransoms would have set up, not just my children, but at least the next three generations.
“I planned it, I did the work and put in the hours, and your father? He took all of the credit. Not only that, you had to go and kill him, and remove any chance of my taking revenge for what he did." He leans forward on the balls of his feet. "Now,youneed to pay the price."
"You want my life; take it," Michael replies, his stance relaxed.
"Oh, you don’t get off that easily. You need to suffer the way I did. Stripped of my power, turned into a laughing stock. No one took me seriously for a long time. It took years for me to put together another team, to regain my position within the organized crime world. Aided, of course, by your brother." He tips his chin in Axel’s direction. "Until he betrayed me and moved over to join you."
Axel’s shoulders tense, but he stays quiet. As do the rest of the Sovranos. They seem to be waiting, watching, holding out for something to unfold. But what?
"You, Michael... You and your brothers are the cause of so much of what went wrong in my life." His lips twist. "And now, you’re going to pay."
Michael must sense his intention, for he growls, "Don’t you fucking dare—"
Freddie tosses his gun to his other hand, and brings the butt down on Michael’s temple again. This time, Michael stumbles to the side. Massimo moves forward, but with an agility that he did not seem capable of, Freddie pulls out another gun from his waist and aims it at me.
I see the shot coming, feel the bullet splice the air as it rushes toward me, hear a thump next to me. Then, I’m pushed to the floor. A big body covers mine. A gun fires, and the reverberations travel through the muscles of the man who is bent over me, down my chest, to my toes.
There’s another muted thump, as if a body hit the floor. I lay there with my cheek pushed into the floor… which is, at least, not dusty. I mean, it’s fairly clean for a place which has seen a lot of footfall. My thoughts flicker. I try to breathe, then wheeze. That’s when the weight disappears from my back. I’m turned over and promptly squeeze my eyes shut.
"You okay?" a voice growls.
His voice—like aged whiskey and sin and everything ever created to tempt a woman to the dark side. It can’t be. It can’t be.
"Open your eyes, Angel," he whispers. I shiver. My heart is racing so fast, I can feel the blood thump in my ears.
"Please," he murmurs.
A word he’s never said before. Never asked me to comply in that tone of voice. A voice that is tender and fearful and so filled with anguish that I snap open my eyes.
I open my mouth to speak, but my words are trapped inside.
59
Luca
Her gaze widens. Those gorgeous, amber eyes of hers lighten until they resemble pools of silver. Her chin trembles. She opens her mouth, but all that comes out is a gasp. Her chest rises and falls.
"Angel, I’m so sorry," I whisper.
She shakes her head. "It can’t be. You’re dead." Her chest rises and falls.
"I’m alive."
"No," she whimpers, "no, no, no." She tries to wriggle out from under me. I grab her wrist, bring her hand to my chest, and place her palm over my heart. The thud-thud-thud of my heartbeat slides into her skin. She presses her hand into me as if she can’t get enough.
"L-Luca?"
I nod.
"I saw you shot."
"I was wearing a bulletproof vest," I explain.
"I saw the blood." She swallows.
"You’re an actress. You know how easy it is to fake a bleeding wound."
"I pressed down on it. I-I held you while your life bled out of you."
