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He frowned at the bodies and the blood on the floor. Then he scowled at Max. “I still see one Ferrara breathing.”
“He’s not part of this family,” I insisted. “Not anymore.”
Max grunted and tried to push to his feet again. He slipped on his own blood and stayed down. My heart leapt into my throat.
“Please, Niko,” I begged, trying to appeal to the vulnerable man I’d glimpsed beneath the charming mask. “Let us leave.”
“I wasn’t going to follow through with the blackmail,” Max said through gritted teeth. “I chose Allie. I came here tonight to tell my father that I wanted out. He didn’t agree.” The last was dark with residual rage.
Niko tilted his head to one side, suspicious. “Easy for you to say now, when I have you outnumbered.”
“Here,” Max bit out. His phone slid across the floor, stopping at Niko’s feet. “The only copy of the blackmail recording is on there. Destroy it. Keep it. I don’t give a fuck. I’m out. Allie is mine.” The declaration dripped with menace. “I will do anything to keep her from you.”
Niko’s brows lowered. “Are you threatening me?”
“Stop!” I demanded. “Please, Niko. I don’t want to marry you. I want to be with Max, and I want my friends to be safe. Take the phone and leave us alone.”
“My father is dead,” Max said coldly. “My cousins are dead. I killed them myself. Like I said, I want nothing to do with this family.”
Niko surveyed the broken bodies again. “You did this?”
“Yes.” Max didn’t betray Francesca, who was still hiding from the Russians. “They hurt Allie.” The steel in his voice implied that he would do the same to anyone who dared to lay a hand on me.
Niko’s pale blue eyes roved over me, taking in my torn shirt and the bruise that still colored my cheek from when Paulie had punched me before setting the fire. His handsome features turned stony with his own anger.
“I have no interest in forcing myself on you, Allie.” He finally lowered his gun and leaned down to pick up Max’s phone. “I’ll talk to my father. He’ll be appeased by the fact that the Ferraras have been eliminated. The engagement is off.” He looked past me, shooting a warning glare at Max. “If I hear so much as a whisper that you’re back in the game, I’ll kill you myself.” He waved to his men. “Let’s go. We’re done here.”
I didn’t lower my gun, waiting until I heard the front door slam shut behind them. Even then, my arms had gone hard as granite, immovable. Max appeared at my side, finally finding the strength to stand. He applied gentle pressure to my hands, guiding me to drop the gun. When it clattered to the floor, Francesca emerged, knife in hand.
Max got between us, swaying slightly but holding his ground. “We’re leaving.”
Her chin took on an imperious tilt. “Go, then. And don’t come back. I’m done with men telling me what I can and can’t do. I’m done with their fucked-up punishments. The next time I want to make someone scream, I’ll do it my way. Make sure you don’t do anything to provoke me, brother.”
He offered her a tight nod. “I’m sorry about what happened to you. Thank you for saving Allie from the same thing.”
My blood ran cold. Someone had raped her the way Paulie had wanted to rape me. No wonder she’d snapped and helped Max.
She stiffened and lifted her knife an inch, as though he’d threatened her with a blade instead of a dark memory.
“Goodbye, Francesca.” He offered a final, gravelly farewell to his sister and turned from her, dropping a corded arm over my shoulder.
He sagged against me, and I wrapped my arm around his waist to support him as best I could. Together, we walked away from his family, away from the terrible place where he’d suffered unimaginable torment. They couldn’t hurt him anymore. No one could. I wouldn’t let them.
CHAPTER 17
Allie
I climbed into Max’s bed, exhaustion tugging at my eyelids. As much as I wanted to collapse beside him, I carefully tucked myself close without jarring his injury. He’d been patched up at the hospital, but he’d checked himself out far too early for my comfort.
“I’ll live, Bambi,” he rumbled, reading the worry in my pinched expression.
I eyed the thick white bandage that was wrapped around his torso.
“You were shot. You should still be in the hospital.”
He’d only stayed for a few hours before we’d left together. He’d made up a story about getting mugged, but he hadn’t wanted to hang around in case the cops started asking too many difficult questions.
He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I’m okay,” he promised. “The doctor gave me some excellent painkillers. I’m more worried about you.”
