Page 103 of Falling for the Enemy

“I love you with my soul as well,” I reply, mirroring his words. “Always, Alejandro Santiago.” Not wanting him to waste any more time, a likely issue since we tend to get lost in one another, I point toward the kitchen. “Now go.”

Keeping low, he does as I command, and heads for the kitchen. Unable to pull them away, my eyes stay glued to him, the loss of his presence one I feel in both my chest and belly.

It’s a mistake.

Boom!

The blast is one I never see coming.

And into endless darkness, I fall.

TWENTY-SIX

Alejandro

The mansion is on fire.

It’s my first thought when I wake on my stomach, lungs burning from the smoke and debris that billow over me, sucking the oxygen from the room.

My second revolves around Manzana.

Pain slices through me as I roll to my back with a groan and cough, spitting up what feels like glass shards. “Ari,” I attempt to yell, the sound that leaves my lips is little more than a harsh whisper. “Baby—”

Click.

I blink, clearing my hazy vision when a blurry form moves over me, the unmistakable silhouette of a gun clutched tightly in its gloved hand.

A gun that’s pointed at me.

“Mr. Santiago.” I may have never heard the man speak before, his thick Russian accent nearly indiscernible, but I’d bet seven figures I now know who the hijo de puta is. “We finally meet.”

I suck in a breath, the hit of air I pull in failing to extinguish the flames that lick my ribs. “I don’t know who you are, maluco, nor do I give a fuck.”

I twist to my side and push to my knees, readying myself to take him on, wholly uncaring of the pistol pointed at my face. If he intended to shoot me versus taking me prisoner, he would’ve already pulled the trigger.

Not doing so is a mistake on his part.

“If you’re looking for your suka, I’m afraid she’s otherwise preoccupied.” He laughs, the grating sound reminding me far too much of Pockmark Pedro. If I had time, I’d slice his tongue free of his mouth before slitting his throat. “I wouldn’t worry though. Stefano will take care—”

Like a cornered animal, I attack.

A blind man would have seen the move coming. The fool before me, however, doesn’t. That becomes clear when I easily snatch his wrist, tearing the gun free from his weak hand.

Wide, flaring eyes.

It’s his body’s last response as I aim the muzzle at his forehead and pull the trigger, dropping him with exactly zero resistance on his part.

I stand, swaying on my feet.

With slick-backed hair, pasty skin, dull lips, and a jawline that’s more feminine than masculine, the corpse I suspect belongs to Sergei looks every bit the inept gangster he just proved to be.

Refusing to waste another minute in his presence, I turn and brace my hand on the wall, steadying myself until the wave of dizziness that overtakes me recedes.

“Manzana!”

Voice now stronger than before, my shout is met with nothing but gunfire from outside. In the house, silence reigns, the occasional pop and crack of maimed wood and destroyed furniture the only things to interrupt the quiet.

Panic wraps around my neck like a noose as I move through the dining room, each of my steps faster than the last as I regain the strength that was torn from me when a third explosion rocked the mansion, its concussive blast hitting me square in the back, knocking me into a dark abyss.

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