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Massimo continues to stare at his daughter in disbelief as she cowers behind her husband. Ivan, meanwhile, is preparing to tear Massimo limb from limb if he has to.
Carefully, I edge slowly toward him and as I reach his side, he doesn’t even see me and without any hesitation, I plunge the needle deep into the side of his neck.
As I release the steady stream of poison into his bloodstream, his scream tears the city apart and all around us the spectators stand frozen in shock as he stumbles and reaches out, grabbing me roughly by the shoulders.
“What have you done? You stupid bitch, you’ll pay dearly for this!”
His piercing scream bounces off the walls and before anyone can react to what’s happening, he falls toward me. I have no time to step aside and it’s as if the whole scene is in slow motion as Massimo’s giant frame crashes against me, forcing me back and as we fall to the ground as one, a glancing blow on the back of my head fills my final breath with pure agony.
CHAPTER7
ALESSANDRO
Ialmost couldn’t concentrate on the job I was given. As soon as Winter walked into the room, my mind left me. It was the most difficult thing in my life not to pounce. To tear her husband apart in front of the packed restaurant for daring to breathe the same air as her. The fact he obviously laid his hands on her made my blood fizz like a volcano on the edge of eruption.
My instructions were clear. Take the bastard out with one bullet from my gun at the perfect moment as soon as Ivan and Charlotte walked into the room. That was my cue, the distraction I needed and as I raised my gun and trained it on the target, even I wasn’t prepared for what happened next.
Massimo’s men played their part perfectly. I’ve got to hand it to my grandfather, he knows his stuff and buying every single last fucking one out was a stroke of pure genius. Massimo’s men have been living under a storm cloud for years now and being assured of their protection was enough to get them to switch sides. Massimo thought he had won and had outsmarted the fox but every single fucking body in Scarpetta was intent on ending his life today.
Before I could finish the job, Winter made her move, and the gun shook in my grip when she moved to his side. It happened so quickly I had no time to think and when she stabbed him in the neck, it took me a moment to understand what was happening. When he fell, it was in slow motion, in my head, anyway, and before he even hit the deck, I was on my feet and running.
I am the first to reach them and it takes minimum effort to tear his body from hers and with an angry roar, I swing my arm back and relish the sound of bone shattering as I knock the bastard clean across the room, shouting, “Ivan, deal with this bastard.”
Massimo’s agonized screams are the best sound in the world as his body reacts to whatever Winter did to him, coupled with the pain from my own rage.
My trusted friend needs no further instruction and I sense Massimo’s body being dragged away and I hope it’s to fucking hell.
The chaos you would expect to follow an incident like this never happens. Instead, the men watch as if they are frozen to the spot. My attention is now focused on only one thing and as I drop to my knees, the emotion inside me threatens to tear me apart. I briefly hear my grandfather’s firm, authoritative voice say roughly, “Call the doctor.”
It all pales into white noise around me as I drop beside my woman and as I reach down and pull her into my arms, the emotion almost overwhelms me.
She looks so beaten, so tragic and nothing like the woman who radiated happiness the last time we met. Her body is frail and so thin it tears my heart apart and squeezes it in a vise like grip, causing me unimaginable pain.
Her skin is white, and her eyes closed against the terror that lives inside them and as I lower my face to hers, I experience a huge wave of relief when I detect shallow breaths telling me she still lives for now.
The open wound on the back of her head is of concern and grabbing the napkin from the table, I hold it against the back of her skull, applying pressure to stem the flow.
I almost can’t speak. The emotions are swirling inside me like an advancing enemy, either promising me a slow painful death or preparing me for the fight of my life.
“Winter.” My voice shakes a little as I try to reach her, and then I raise it a little, more out of fear than anything else.
“Winter baby, it’s Alessandro. You’re safe now. Open your eyes.”
She resembles the Sleeping Beauty in my arms and like the prince who stumbled upon her own lifeless body, I press my lips to hers in the foolish hope that fairy tales are an actual thing, and this is all it will take to bring her back to me.
I have pictured this moment a trillion times since she was taken, but nothing prepared me for the pain I’m experiencing knowing she is hurt.
“Alessandro.” My grandfather’s husky voice reaches through the darkness and his hand on my shoulder reminds me I’m not alone.
“The doctor is on his way.”
Portia drops down beside me and says firmly, “We must apply pressure to the wound.”
She hands me fresh napkins and as I hold my angel in my arms, I am grateful for their support.
I don’t even register that the restaurant has emptied, and it’s just the four of us crowding around Winter. The time stretches interminably as we wait for professional help.
Charlotte hands me another napkin and whispers, “She is so brave.”
