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Get a grip, Capizola. She’s depending on you.
Alessia Marchetti, the girl who now held my heart in the palm of her hands.
I knew it the second I pushed inside her and claimed her first time. But it could never work. The Marchetti princess and… me. I was a soldier for the Family. I was family.
Nicco and Antonio wouldn’t want me anywhere near their precious, sweet Alessia. If they ever found out what I’d done… Not even Arianne’s protection could save me from their wrath.
I shoved down those thoughts, I needed to focus. If I didn’t get lucky and find a cell phone or a way out of this place, Nicco’s wrath would be the least of my concerns.
Darting across the gravel, I pressed myself flat across the side of the building and began inching my way toward the door. It wasn’t the door Alessia and I had fled from, which meant there was more than one way in and out. But without schematics of the place, I’d have to make do.
The door was unlocked, and I slipped inside, surprised to find myself in the main warehouse space. The rows and rows of pallets gave me plenty of cover as I worked my way across the room. I’d almost made it to the other side, when approaching footsteps halted me.
I lifted my gun, aiming in the direction of the footsteps. My pulse quickened, the air around me growing thick.
“This is total bullshit,” somebody said. “No one said nothing about—”
“Quit your bitchin’ Monroe. You’re getting paid, doesn’t matter what for.”
Two of them. I could take two of them. The gunfire would draw attention, but if I was fast, I could be in and out and back to Alessia before anyone got back here.
Inhaling a calming breath, I checked the safety on the gun and emerged from out behind the pallet. One of the guys saw me, drawing his weapon.
“Shit, shit!” he yelled. But before he could get another word out, I pulled the trigger and fired.
His body went down like a ton of bricks, hitting the concrete with a thud, blood trickling out of the single bullet hole in his forehead.
“Motherfucker,” the other guy grunted, fumbling with the assault rifle on his back.
A fucking assault rifle.
I didn’t think about it as I dove for another stack of pallets, ducking out of sight.
“You’re a dead man, Capizola,” he shouted.
Shit. I hadn’t seen if he had a radio. If he did…
I jumped up and fired. Once. Twice. The crack of gunfire, making my heart falter. But I didn’t hesitate, didn’t stop as I raced toward him and slammed into him. We went down. Hard. The air whooshing from my lungs as I rolled to the side and unsheathed my second weapon. I swung around, aiming it at the guy who was grappling with his rifle, trying to get a grip on the weapon strewn at an odd angle across his body.
“You’re gonna die for that,” he spat.
Bang.
I shot him point blank, the spray of blood a red mist in the air.
Rushing over to them, I searched their bodies for a cell phone or keys. Relief slammed into me the second I discovered a cell phone tucked into one of their pockets. But before I could dial Nicco’s number, voices rang out around me.
“He’s in the warehouse,” someone yelled. “I heard gunshots.”
Shit.
Shit.
I pocketed the cell phone, grabbed the assault rifle, and slung it over my shoulder, doubling back around to the side door.
Gunfire ricocheted off the wall beside my head, catapulting my heart into my fucking throat. But adrenaline spurred me forward. Adrenaline and the desperate need to get back to Alessia and get the fuck out of here so we could call for help.
I careened into the door, slamming my hands down on the bar and barreling into the night.
