AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You can thank your lucky stars I don’t have time to play with you tonight,” I growl through clenched teeth. “Otherwise, I’d show you just how much it can cost to toy with my girlfriend. This time, I guess I’ll simply have to settle for your life.”
Maksim’s eyes grow wide with realization, and he squirms fruitlessly beneath me in fear. His lips part, ready to call for help now that he’s been so thoroughly beaten, but it’s too late. With a violent jerk, I slice through his neck; I cut so deep, I strike bone.
“Fucking animal,” I say in disgust, wiping the blade on his shirt before rising from his chest and turning toward the door.
All is quiet, assuring me our scuffle went unnoticed, and I pad lightly up the steps. After a moment’s hesitation, I stop to collect the gun from the larger Russian’s belt. I don’t want to use it–it might call attention to my presence. But it’s better to have it just in case.
Slipping into the house, I study the impressive kitchen layout and find no one in sight. That’s good. I’m hoping I can slip in and out without detection. Lucca’s right. I can’t fight them all, so I need to do this without detection.
Easing open the far door, I peek out into a long hallway lined with ornate wall sconces and elaborately framed paintings of priceless worth. Whoever decorated this place has an eye for interior design and a deep pocket.
Nothing I see would point to where the girls are being held, so I’ll have to make my best guess. Barely daring to breathe, I ease out onto the dark-stained wood floor, turning right. My dress shoes do nothing to aid my stealth as the leather soles tap against the wood, the heels clicking softly and forcing me to walk on the balls of my feet.
I keep my confiscated knife at the ready, prepared to shut someone up permanently should the need arise. Usually, I abhor violence–one of the many reasons my father and I don’t get along very well–but to save Bianka and Ellie, I’ll do whatever it takes. And having grown up a Marchetti, I certainly know how to use weapons when I so choose.
Creeping down the hallway, I press my ear to every door I pass, listening for any signs of life before opening each in turn. A drawing room. A billiard room. Then a good-sized library. The double doors at the end of the hall have a grand presence, and as I reach them, I dare to wonder if the girls might be behind them.
Shoes shuffle on the other side of the right-hand door, alerting me to someone’s presence, and I brace myself for anything as I lean against the wood to listen. A low sentence is murmured in Russian, followed by a second voice who answers curtly. Two men. At least. And then music to my ears.
“Can we get some water, at least?” Bianka pleads. “I’m sure the Matron won’t be pleased if you let us die of thirst before she comes back.”
Another muttered discussion in Russian.
“Fine,” one guard says curtly.
The handle turns, and one side of the double doors opens. I’m ready, sliding through the proffered gap before either guard notices I’m there. Startled eyes peer down at me as the first bearded guard registers my presence. And then a crimson smile spreads across his throat, releasing a waterfall of blood.
A single choking gargle escapes his lips, and he crashes to the floor, forcing the door closed behind him. The other guard leaps into action, his meaty fist missing my face by an inch as I dodge the right hook.
This guy’s big, far bigger than Maksim, and I can’t afford to mess around with him. If he catches me with a single blow, I’ll be flat on my back. But big guys–as powerful as they might be–are generally slow, so rather than taking a defensive stance, I move in close.
Striking like a snake, I slip the knife between his ribs one, two, three times as I duck beneath his arm. Finishing the attack, I bury the blade in his back, right between his shoulder blade and spine.
He drops like a rock, falling on top of his compatriot, immediately dead from a knife to the heart. Breathing heavily from the burst of exertion and the adrenaline pounding through my veins, I turn to assess the room, ensuring I’ve taken down everyone who might stand in my way.
“Cassio!” Bianka gasps, her face pale with shock.
Her eyes flit to the bodies piled on the floor, and I realize she’s never seen such a violent display from me before. Then her green eyes find mine once again as she silently starts to cry.
I’m across the room in an instant, setting the knife down at her feet as I kneel to cup her face between my palms. “Are you okay?” I breathe. Brushing away her tears, I tip her face to examine the slight coloration along her cheekbone and the split lip from where she was slapped.
“I’m fine, I’m fin–” she insists, and I can’t help myself. I lean in to kiss her, capturing her lips fervently as relief overwhelms me.
I pull away a moment later, knowing time is of the essence. “We have to get you girls out of here,” I insist, glancing behind me to ensure no one’s coming.
Picking up the knife, I make my way around the chair to Bianka’s tied hands. As carefully as I can, I start to cut her loose, sawing through the tough cord. The cabling is neither flexible nor easy to cleave, making the arduous work painstakingly slow when speed is crucial to our successful escape.
Bianka fills me in on the details in hushed tones as I work, informing me that her kidnappers are tied to a rival Bratva that’s been after her brother’s territory for years. They’re the same people who brought weapons into downtown Chicago just last year, and Nicolo took care of them for it.
“I guess they took Ellie, too, because they didn’t know which of us was me. Ellie, I’m so sorry,” Bianka says, turning to face her friend.
“It’s not your fault,” Ellie says quietly, her forgiveness effortless and immediate.
The last of Bianka’s bonds fall away, and then she’s out of her chair as I pull her into my arms, breathing in the heavenly scent of her shampoo as I hold her close to me. God, it feels good to have her in my grasp, to feel she’s alive and well. Though not yet safe.
She’s trembling like a leaf, but when I peer down at her, the determination on her face reminds me of our urgent need. “We have to hurry,” I remind myself, releasing her to turn my attention to my brother’s girlfriend.
I stoop behind Ellie’s chair and begin the rigorous process of cutting her free. I barely dare to breathe as I work, willing my fallen victims to go unnoticed until we have time to escape, though I can hardly believe we’ll make it that far without someone discovering me.
