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I had seconds to react, grabbing Whitney and shoving her to the ground before a round of gunfire sprayed over us.
“Stay down,” I told her, immediately yanking my weapon into my hand.
“What’s happening?”
“Betrayal. Do not move from this spot.” I didn’t have time to ensure that she would follow my command. I rushed closer, firing off several shots, the boat immediately roaring in an arc. While the loud music kept the sound to a minimum, it was only a matter of time before chaos set in.
As the boat swung around, I took the opportunity to grab Whitney by the arm, yanking her against me. “We’re leaving.”
“Wait. The envelope. What about Elizabeth?”
“She’ll be fine. Stavros will protect her with his life.”
“What if he kills her instead?”
I almost laughed. “He won’t. We can trust him.”
The irony wouldn’t leave any time soon.
She gathered everything together, holding it against her chest as I rushed us into the crowd. The soldiers on the boat were only one wave of the attack. As I dragged her toward the front entrance, I noticed at least four Armenians searching the crowd for our location.
“Fuck,” I hissed, yanking out my phone as I pulled her into the hallway leading to the bathroom. Maxim’s number was on speed dial. “Where the hell are you?”
“Traffic,” the Russian growled. “Almost there.”
“We’re under attack.”
“Just like you anticipated. Don’t worry. I have a surprise.”
There was no time to ask what the hell he was talking about. I guided her toward the kitchen, pushing my way inside. “We’re going out the service entrance. If I say drop, you drop.”
“I will.”
I shoved her through several cooks, finding the door seconds later. Stavros knew what to do but he could be surrounded. Only I knew he wasn’t the target. His life might be spared in order to gun me down.
As the sunlight and heat blasted our exit, I was momentarily blinded. There was no time to waste. “Go. Go!”
The light breeze pushed across my face, the sunlight continuing to be an issue. I kept her close to my body, sensing men approaching from two sides. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Stavros racing in our direction, his weapon in his hand.
Whitney clung to me, molding her body against mine as I weaved my way through the parking lot. I’d hedged my bets, risking everything that was precious to me in order to discover the truth.
I only hoped one of the men who’d taken a blood oath years before would uphold his pledge of support in a crisis.
I’d never been a believer in destiny, challenging the concept every step of my life. My father had said early on that the lives of his children weren’t carved in stone but molded with the use of intelligence in the face of opposition and danger.
However, this was a defining moment that I’d never wanted to face, a crushing blow to everything I’d believed in for so long.
As enemy soldiers encircled our location, I shoved Whitney behind a vehicle. Her eyes were imploring, slicing through me as she uncovered my soul. Did she know she’d captured my heart? “I love you, Whitney. No matter what happens, I hope that’s something you’ll remember.”
“What are you saying?” She wrapped her fingers around my arm, clawing into me as if never wanting to let me go.
“Don’t worry, myomorfiá. I’ll always be with you.” After pressing my lips against hers, I heard Stavros cry in fury, the sound of gunfire erupting all around me. For so long I’d tried shutting down all my emotions for the fear of caring too much, but I was painfully aware that was no longer possible.
Now I felt everything.
Every electric pulse shredding the darkness inside.
Every touch of her fingers against my skin.
