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CHAPTERFORTY
DANIIL
Either Emilio has hugely underestimatedus or we’re being set up, because none of this makes sense. Leo and I are lying belly down on the edge of the property, obscured by the shadows as a small group of Zegas gathers only thirty yards away. Even in the fading sunlight, I know what I’m looking at.
A fucking wedding.
The Madman is marrying my woman like it’s a grand fucking event, and everyone is invited.
The sight sets my blood on fire. Rage, regret, guilt—all of it—comes roaring to the surface, but I use it as fuel. It sharpens my focus, drives my revenge. Because only one thing matters right now, and that’s getting Bianca out of this alive.
Mercy has two sharpshooters perched in the hills above us, but I don’t know what their vantage point is, and they’re too far out of range to communicate. The rest of the team has the perimeter covered, spread out in pairs over a two-mile radius.
Leo and I are on the south end of the property, facing the courtyard where I have a front-row seat to the action. The Zega guards are few and far between. There’s no way Emilio could bring his whole crew here. He was probably relying on its remoteness to pull off whatever this is about.
He can’t imagine that what I feel for Bianca is real. That I would travel to the ends of the earth for her.
Beside me, Leo counts down to the action. “Three, two, one… cut power.”
Mercy’s group of hackers use their techno magic to kill the power, plunging the world into darkness and shutting down all the lights and any alarm systems on the property.
An eerie hush falls over the yard. There’s no sound save for the soft hiss of the wind through the tall palm trees. The silence does not last long. It’s quickly replaced by men shouting in a mix of Spanish and English, unmistakable words of panic.
And then an explosion. One that we orchestrated on the north side of the property. A distraction technique. A warning, meant to intimidate and cause chaos, giving them the impression that we are a bigger group than we really are. I’m dying to move forward and fuck these guys up, but Mercy was clear. We are only to move forward on her word. Before her call, we’re putting Bianca’s life in danger.
From all around, gunfire erupts, mingling with the frightened yelps of the staff. Pleas and screams reverberate through the open yard like a gruesome symphony. Mercy said her men will engage the guards on the far side of the property, leaving us clear to swoop in and extract Bianca. But that’s not what is happening right now.
I tighten my hold on the trigger and double-check the night vision goggles hanging from my helmet. Thank the mafia gods for these suckers. They’re the only reason I can see shit right now. And what I see makes my blood run cold.
Bianca lifts her hand, and when it comes down, something is plunged into Jorge’s neck. I blink twice to make sure what I’m seeing is actually happening. Is Bianca stabbing Días? A primal cry releases from between his lips, and at that moment I know she’s taking her revenge on him. But the one thing that doesn’t add up—Emilio stands by, watching. Not helping. Not interfering. It’s as if he’s taking an objective interest in watching Bianca kill his right-hand man in front of him.
Unable to standby any longer, I make a move, but Leo clasps his hands around my wrist.
“Don’t,” he whispers. “We haven’t gotten word yet.”
“Are you seeing this?” I hiss back. “I need to go in and help.”
“She seems to be managing just fine without you.”
I glimpse back to the action just as Bianca is pulling a gun from Días’s holster as he lays curled up on the ground, hopefully bleeding out. I’m not sure how my girl did it, but she managed to pull off a kick-ass feat. But her victory is short-lived. My heart thuds against my rib cage as Emilio makes a move towards Bianca.
As I stand by helplessly, he swiftly pulls his fist back and punches Bianca in the face. She falls like a sack of potatoes, down for the count as my heart nearly jumps out of my chest. Without another thought, I charge forward, gun raised, uncaring that we haven’t gotten the signal yet. My only thought centers on killing Emilio with my bare hands.
Before I can get a shot off, he heaves Bianca over his shoulder, then turns around, eyes burning into my own as he raises his gun and aims in my direction. Time stands still, the only thing I’m conscious of is the near-deafening pop of a bullet, then my torso goes numb momentarily before erupting in fiery heat.
He shot me. The fucker shot me. Even though I’m kitted out in a vest, the force is like being hit full force with a baseball bat. The impact is jarring down to my bones. I’m stunned, doubled over in pain as my groan slices through the orchestra of gunfire blasting around me. All I can do is focus on getting air into my lungs and staying conscious as a figure drops beside me.
Leo’s voice is a panicked snarl. “Fuck, Daniil. Are you hit?” He rips off his goggles and checks for blood, injuries, anything.
“I’m fine,” I gasp. “The fucker got me right in the chest.”
“Jesus. We need to get you out of here and to the team medic. You could have a ruptured organ, internal bleeding—”
“Fuck that,” I say, heaving my body upright. “I don’t fucking care, I’m going after her. He took her into the house.”
“Do you have a death wish?” Leo’s back molars grind together. “We need to wait for the team before we infiltrate the house.” He looks up, taking in the war zone the compound has turned into. Skirmishes in the pitch-black. The one advantage we seem to have.
I push Leo away from me, struggling to my feet. “We don’t have time,” I argue to my brother, fighting to catch my breath. “You don’t have to come, but I’m going in.”
