Page 63 of Falling for the Enemy

He knew we were coming.

Whether it’s one of my men who has turned rat or my informant that was flipped byLa Famiglia, I’m not certain. What Idoknow, however, is that we’ve been played, and as a result, I’ve foolishly led my men into a trap.

“I’ve been waiting for you, darling.”

Before I can react, a crate to my left detonates, the spine-cracking concussion the explosion produces disorienting me. Deafened by the unexpected blast and blinded by a flash of white light, I tumble to the concrete floor. Equilibrium mangled, I crash hard, losing possession of my weapon.

Gunfire erupts inside the warehouse, the muted pops and cracks distant-sounding as I claw at the concrete, splices of sharp pain ricocheting through my side. Blood trickles over my hip, the tear in my shirt rubbing against the fresh wounds now marring my flesh.

I can’t see how deep they are.

But theysting. Badly.

Chest burning, I suck in one mouthful of oxygen after another in an instinctual attempt to replenish the air that was just knocked from my lungs. Blocking the pain to gather my bearings, a necessity if I’m to survive, I roll to my stomach and blindly search the floor for my gun.

My fingertips meet cold steel as my senses partially return. With every bit of strength I can harness, I push to my knees, the dark spots that dance in my field of vision making it nearly impossible to see.

“Ari!” Casper’s scream carries through the continued gunfire, sounding closer but still distant. I have no doubt he’s fighting to reach me. Once he does, I’ll be safe. But for now, saving myself is in order, a task I’m fully capable of. After all, I’m no damsel in distress.“Stand up and fucking shoot!”

Despite the situation, I smile.

So demanding, that one.

Still off-kilter from the blast, I stumble to my feet. But tapping into the adrenaline that floods my veins, fueling my hammering heart, I lift the gun. My sights lock on Stefano, who’s watching me closely, a pistol of his own in his hand.

Red face mimicking an overly ripe tomato, he charges forward, his eyes flitting to a spot behind me. “Grab the little bitch before she kills us all!”

I spin, my upper body swaying but holding steady, and pull the trigger, embedding a single bullet into the chest of an approaching Italian. The problem is, I’m not quick enough to shoot the second before he tackles me, his broad shoulder slamming into my face, busting my bottom lip.

My back hits the concrete, his heavy weight landing atop me with a crushing jolt. To my pride’s ire, he easily overpowers me, ripping my gun away and slinging it across the floor. Thinking he’s neutralized me, themudakgrins, the scent of his whiskey-laced breath near vomit-inducing.

I’ve got bad news for him, however.

This rabidsukafights to the death.

With a battle cry, I jam my thumbs into his eyes, digging my acrylics deep. Rendered blind, he bellows and jerks away, ripping himself free of my assault. I seize the opportunity he’s just gifted me and pull my leg back, cocking it.

I slam my boot into hiskhui.

The mafioso tumbles to the side, his agonized screams music to my ears. I roll the opposite way in an attempt to scramble to my feet. But once again, things don’t go as planned.

My head is jerked back, neck nearly snapped in half, when Vincent, Capone’s younger brother, grasps a handful of my hair from where he appears beside me. Snatching me to my feet, he pulls me into his side.

It seems trouble has found me.

Jamming his Glock against the underside of my chin, the metal biting into my skin, the jackal bares his pearly veneers, both the punches and kicks I swiftly throw at his face and torso having no effect.

“Time to take a trip,bella.”

“Nyet, zhopa,” I spit, wrapping my right hand around his pistol and jerking down. My weakened attempt to dislodge it is fruitless. “I’m afraid my schedule is booked.”

His face dips closer to mine, the pungent taste of his rage ghosting over my blood-tinged lips. “Cute,” he whispers as gunfire continues to erupt. “But I wonder how smart your mouth will remain once we bury our cocks in it?”

“Is that La Famiglia’s grand plan?” My blood boils, the threat striking me directly in my solar plexus. I’ll greet death before I allow them to take from me what I’ll never freely give. “To permit each of its bottom feeders to rape me?”

My stomach twists, turning inside out, when he licks his lower lip, my insult floating right over the top of his head. “The first of many.” Lifting me by my hair, he turns us, the muzzle of his gun moving to my temple. “As I said,reginetta, it’s time to take a trip.”

Three forward steps.

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