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As soon as he says it, a huge truck explodes out of the forest—and crashes right into the Jeep that Celine is inside.
The truck spins the Jeep sideways, throwing it several feet before it flips into its side. It does one, two, three somersaults before it plows into the trees on the far side of the road.
Metal crunches. Glass shatters. “No,” I hear Taylor gasp. Then she starts to scream. “NO! CELINE!”
She jumps out of the Hummer, but I catch her around her waist before she even hits the ground. “No,” I growl, even as Bellasio thugs rush out of the truck. “Get back inside!”
“Celine!” she continues screaming, completely ignoring me. “Let me go! That’s my sister!”
I want to tell her that I’ll take care of it. That I won’t let anyone get hurt. But I don’t have time for words. So I hurl her back into her truck and slam the door on her furious screams. Mila and Dima are already returning fire at the Bellasio reinforcements.
It’s fucking madness all over again. I have to shoot my way through the onslaught to get to Celine’s upturned car.
But it’s like battling locusts. They’re everywhere, dozens upon dozens of them. Each one individually is crushed with ease, but as a whole, there’s just too fucking many.
“Secure the prisoner!” I yell, but my voice is lost in the chaos of screams and gunshots.
I vault onto the hood of one of the trucks and scale up onto the roof. I stand there, looking down at the entire scene unfolding.
I don’t know where to go first. Benedict, Celine, Taylor, Mila, Dima—I have too many weak points. Too many vulnerabilities to exploit.
Once again, I have to ask myself,How did everything go so wrong?
“Ilarion!” Dima screams from the ground next to me. “What the hell are you doing? You’re too visible up there!”
A second later, a bullet scythes past my head, narrowly missing. I feel the sting of air pressure as it whips past me. I can’t even locate the shooter; there’s too much going on.
“Cover me!” I bellow to Dima. I pick out three, four, five Bellasio men, and each of them die by my gun.
But with the small group of soldiers closing in on Celine, I’m forced to make a split-second decision.
Save her?
Or keep Benedict?
Taylor’s face flashes through my mind just before I jump down and sprint towards Celine.
I slam my gun handle-first into the face of a stray Bellasio thug as I fight my way to the car. Two are trying to break down the door from the top to get in. I shoot one in the back of the head and the other one between the eyes.
“Celine!” I call.
No answer.
It takes a few minutes to get the tortured metal of the door to rip free. My muscles are straining as I pull, pull, before finally it gives way. I bend low into the smoky darkness of the car.
For a moment, I don’t see her.Am I too late?
But then—there.
She’s slumped against the opposite window, eyes closed, face pale, blood smeared across the glass and leaking from her scalp.
I crawl in, scoop her limp frame up, and drag her out. Her head lolls lifelessly against my shoulder as I free her.
“Fuck,” Mila hisses, materializing from the mayhem with a gun in each hand. “Is she alive?”
I press my fingers to her neck. “She’s got a pulse.”
I look up past Mila and realize something: it’s suddenly quieter. The Bellasio men have gone back the way they came, disappearing into the forest. My men, the ones who survived, are slumped against the cars or ducked down in defensive positions. Everywhere I look, dust swirls and wounded Bratva men grimace with pain.
