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“Trust me, Taylor—”
“‘Trust you’?” she scoffs, shaking out of her shock. “Trusting you is the last fucking thing I’d ever do. I’d rather—”
BAM.
Her words are drowned out by what is indisputably a gunshot. Taylor freezes, the words dying on her tongue. “What the—”
More gunshots break through the civilized chatter coming from the garden.
That’s when we hear the screams.
“TAKE COVER!”
“What the hell is going on?” Taylor gasps.
“Get behind me,” I order her as I pull out my gun. “The Bellasios are here.”
18
ILARION
She doesn’t budge. Her eyes are fixed on my gun, and she’s backing away from me as thoughI’mthe bad guy.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I snarl at her without looking. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“How am I supposed to know that?”
“For one, you’re carrying my baby.”
I snare her arm and reel her in toward me. She’s not expecting that. She stumbles forward and her face hits my chest. She tries to push me off immediately. “If you don’t let me go right now, I’m gonna scream.”
“I’ve got news for you,tigrionok: no one will notice.”
Another gunshot. This one’s close. Too close. A twitching body falls across the hallway, blocking our path. Taylor screams and suddenly, she doesn’t seem so keen to leave my side after all.
“Oh, God—my mom is out there. And Dad. And Celine!”
Celine.I almost forgot about her. I should be at her side right now. There’s no doubt in my mind why the Bellasios have chosen this day to attack.
And here I am—protecting the wrong sister.
Of course, this is the sister who is carrying my baby, so I suppose it’s justified. I tell myself that’s the only reason I’m hanging back, making sure Taylor is safe first before I join the fray.
I’m doing this for the baby.
Not for the little tigress who’s lived in my dreams since the moment I almost smeared her across my bumper.
“Ilarion—my family!”
“I’ll make sure they’re okay,” I assure her. “Just stay behind me and do as I say.”
“Why the hell are there guns here?” she asks, unraveling with her terror. “Who are they? No, scratch that—who the hell areyou?”
All good questions. All legitimate questions. But I’m not in the right frame of mind to answer them. I grab my phone when I feel it vibrating in my pants pocket.
“Dima, where are you? Yeah, got it… No, I’m in the east corridor… I’ve got cargo. Come grab her so I can deal with this shit.”
The moment I hang up, Taylor fixes me with an offended glare. “‘Cargo?’”
