Page 64 of His to Hold

He presses the gun harder against my temple and I whimper. As Max tightens his grip on me, I screw my eyes shut.

“Bella, look at me.”

Even now, when I’m terrified of what will happen next, Antonio’s command is impossible to resist. I open my eyes and meet his steady gaze.

“I love you, Isabella Volante.”

“I love you too.”

With as much force as I can muster, I kick back against Max’s leg. His grip on me loosens just enough that I’m able to slip out from under his arm. I dive forward and tumble downstairs as a deafening crack splits the air.

“Bella!” Antonio yells as I manage to stop my fall halfway down the staircase. He runs to me and drops to his knees, frantically checking me for any injuries.

“I’m okay,” I assure him. “Just a bit shaky.”

Antonio helps me to my feet and keeps his arm around me as we come down the last few steps to find Leo and Piotr Reznov standing in the hallway. I hold up my bound wrists. “Can someone?”

“Oh, fuck, yes.” Antonio holds his hand out to Leo, who produces a knife from the back of his belt and passes it to him. He saws through the rope and rubs my poor chafed wrists.

“Are they all dead?” I ask.

Leo steps around us and looks up to where Max is lying with half his face missing. “Afraid so.” He sounds as if that pains him. I guess he was looking forward to torturing someone.

“Thank you for coming for me.” I offer Leo and Piotr a warm smile, which neither of them returns.

“It’s nothing,” Piotr replies. “We’ll soon be family, after all.”

“Get your girl out of here.” Leo goes and throws his arm over Piotr’s shoulder. “Cousin Pete and I will deal with the mess.”

Piotr’s jaw twitches in annoyance, but he allows my brother-in-law to steer him back into the living room to assess whatever carnage they’ve created in there.

“Cousin Pete?” I ask as Antonio takes my hand and leads me outside.

“Leo’s developed a death wish.”

“Hmm. Does that mean Ava and Boris are getting married?”

“Let’s think about that later,” Antonio says. “I just want to get you home.”

He leads me out toward the field at the side of the house where a sleek white helicopter is sitting.

“Are you allowed to land that thing there?”

Antonio shrugs. “Don’t give a fuck.”

He helps me get into the back and fastens my safety belt before going to speak to whoever’s piloting this thing. He climbs in, pulls the door shut, and sits beside me on the incredibly comfortable padded seat. I’ve flown in helicopters before, but this one is next level luxurious with its thick carpet and walnut trim.

“It’s Reznov’s,” Antonio answers my unvoiced question.

“Nice of him to let you borrow it.”

“Nice, my ass. He’ll extract his pound of flesh for this at some point.”

I’d like to tell Antonio he’s being too sceptical, but I know how this world works. Nobody does something for nothing.

“How’s Dante?” I ask as the rotors whir above us.

“Alive and kicking.”

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