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I stare at him. “Really? How are you feeling? You were shot in the side three days ago. You can’t be feeling good as ever.”
“I’m fine, daughter. I’m just anxious to get you settled and an heir in place.” The way he looks at me tells me I’ve overcomplicated things. He’s disappointed I didn’t just stay married to Lennox. I’m choosing another man. I’m pregnant, and he has no clue whose baby it is. I’m a huge disappointment.
I step back to the other side of the desk and lean into Andrea’s side as he hooks an arm over my shoulders.
“Let her go,” a deep voice says from behind us.
We don’t have to look behind us to know that a gun is pointed at Andrea. He looks down at me and winks—he’s confident he can take the man out.
But who is it? And how did they get past Vincent’s guards?
Andrea doesn’t let me go—in fact, he pulls me to him tighter and then turns around quickly. He pulls his gun out and pushes me behind him, putting himself between me and the gun pointed at us.
Both men fire.
Both men miss.
And then I realize who the intruder is.
“Kit?” I whisper.
I have no idea how he’s standing, let alone where he got a gun, or how he got down here.
Before Kit responds, guards file down the stairs at the sound of gunfire, and Andrea scoops me up into his arms. He carries me back behind the desk at the same time Vincent ducks down behind it.
Vincent looks me up and down, assuring himself that I’m unharmed. And then he gives a nod of gratitude to Andrea.
My heart beats a million miles an hour—Kit. He couldn’t have survived everything to be killed now.
I hear more gunfire.
“No!” I cry out.
I try to peek around the desk, but Andrea holds me tightly, keeping me from looking.
“No!” I scream again. “Let me go!”
I fight against Andrea’s grasp, but his hands tighten their hold; combined with Vincent grabbing my arm, I have no chance of breaking free. No chance of stopping this. No chance of saving Kit. After everything I’ve done to protect him—my first love, the father of my baby.
“Please,” I beg. “Kit’s innocent. Don’t let him die.”
Andrea looks to Vincent, letting him make the decision.
With the tiniest of nods, Vincent gives Andrea permission. Andrea grabs something from his pocket—handcuffs.
My eyes widen—no.
He slaps one on my wrist and the other to the desk before he darts around the desk, as does Vincent—leaving me trapped to the desk.
Fucking sociopaths.
I growl and try to yank on the handcuffs, but I’m stuck. I can’t do anything but hope and pray that Kit is going to be okay.
I hear a scuffle, more shots, and then finally, silence.
I can’t move far, but I can ease my head around the side of the desk enough to make out most of the scene.
There are several guards down. But Vincent, Andrea, and Kit are all alive. And they are all pointing their guns at each other.
