Page 195 of Mafia Billionaire's Surprise Baby

It roars to life, and she throws it in gear.

We rumble away.

“Does this thing go any faster?” I look back out the back window. We probably have about ten minutes before they notice we’re gone.

Maybe more. It’s not like they did a great job of checking on either of us during the day.

“No,” Marisol says. “The estate is on seven hundred acres of land…”

“Seven hundred! I thought we were in a city?”

“Brasilia is kind of like Washington DC. It’s a district and a city and also contains a lot of wildlife parks, because, you know. We protect our forests,” she adds.

I raise my eyebrows. “Is that true?”

“I’m not about to get into the politics of Brazil with you, white girl.”

“I’m Italian, if that helps.”

“Doesn’t help me,” she says with a snort.

I smile. “I like you, Marisol.”

“You just need to trust me, Gia. We’re going to get out of here. You don’t have to like me one bit.”

“Guess it’s a bit of a bonus then,” I say, slamming into the side of the truck as she whips around a curve.

The next curve, she takes slower.

But unfortunately, there’s gunshots that ring out over us as we trundle around.

“Shit,” I say looking back. “They found us. Put this into high gear,” I look at the truck.

“It is in high gear,” Marisol grits.

We both duck as more bullets rain down on the truck’s roof.

“Shit, Marisol. Maybe we could take like a side…”

There’s someone coming up the road at us.

Three ATVs. Three men in helmets.

Three men with giant, semiautomatic rifles strapped to their chests.

“Fuck!” I snap.

Marisol turns the wheel, and the truck screams, turning slowly. For a second, I think we’re going to tip over, and I brace myself to roll.

But the truck, heavy, tips back. Instead, we come screeching to a halt.

My heart is in my throat. We’re dead. We’re caught.

One of the men with a helmet lifts his rifle. He points it toward us.

“Get down!” I yell at Marisol, shoving her forward.

I wait for the round to puncture the truck.

---