Page 122 of His Tesoro

The two men moved to the cockpit while Leona and Angelo stayed by the open door, guns drawn. The engine started up, and it felt like my heart was beating in time with the vibrations.

“Take cover!” Angelo shouted, leaning out of the helicopter to close the door as bullets started pinging off the metal frame.

“They’re trying to take down the tail and blades!” Finn shouted.

The helicopter lifted off the ground and then lurched, slamming back down. Angelo threw himself over me, and I curled my body over my stomach. The sound of breaking glass was followed by rapid gunshots, but I had no idea where they were coming from.

“There’s too many of them,” Leona shouted. “I messaged Ronan, but he’s twenty minutes away.”

Angelo shifted off me, twisting around to take shots out of the shattered door window until his gun clicked. “Fuck.”

“Surrender now and save your lives,” someone shouted from outside the helicopter.

Finn crawled to us from the cockpit. “Their cars are bulletproof and I’m out of ammo. Leona?—”

“No,” she said. I couldn’t see her from my cramped position, but she sounded furious. “We can’t give up.”

“We can get out of this,” the other Irish man said. “But we have to surrender first. Ronan will come for us.”

I clutched Angelo’s arm, sharp terror stabbing my chest.

“They’ll just kill us, Aidan,” Leona said. “We don’t even know who they are. They have no reason to keep us alive.”

Suddenly, the helicopter door swung open. Four masked men stood there, rifles pointed at us. “Drop your weapons,” one of the masked men shouted as he waved his gun. He had an accent, but I couldn’t place it.

One by one, Leona, Finn, Aidan, and Angelo dropped their guns. Another man walked up behind the armed guards, but he wasn’t masked. He looked to be in his late thirties with buzzed hair and a stocky build.

Angelo inhaled sharply and shifted in front of me, blocking my view. “Arben.”

My blood ran cold.

“Angelo Conti,” a sneering voice responded.

Then a loud shot rang out, and Angelo crumpled in front of me.

Everything faded, my entire world narrowing to my unconscious bodyguard, my friend. An agonized scream left my lips as I lunged at him. “Angelo!” I pressed my hands over the gunshot wound on his chest. Hot blood gushed against my palms and tears fell against the back of my hand. “I swear to God, I will kill you if you die on me.”

Loud shouts and the sound of metal filled the air and then cold hands grabbed me from behind, ripping me away from Angelo and pulling me backwards out of the helicopter. I screamed and thrashed, but whoever was holding me had an iron grip and my shoulder was weak and aching, leaving me helpless.

A rough bag covered my face and I was shoved into a car. Before the door closed, I thought I heard someone speak in Russian.

65

SOFIYA

Rough arms threw me to the ground. I caught myself before my face hit the floor, sending a sharp pain through my shoulders and wrists. The door slammed and I was left alone, the cold already seeping into my skin.

I ripped off my tear-soaked hood and peered around the dim cell. It was similar to the one in Matteo’s basement, except there was a tiny window high on the wall with bars over it. Apparently all the Mafia heads followed the same interior design plan.

Tears dripped down my cheeks and I clutched my chest, feeling like my heart was being ripped out. I refused to believe Angelo was dead, but my hands were still drenched in his blood. My stomach lurched and I breathed slowly through my nose to keep myself from throwing up. My mind was sluggish and exhaustion pulled at me. I was tempted to curl up on the filthy floor and close my eyes, but I needed to stay alert. Was it the Albanians who got us? But then… why had I heard someone speaking in Russian? I couldn’t make sense of any of it.

My shoulders curled inward as the truth settled in my bones. It was my fault Angelo was shot. My fault the Irish were captured. My plan had been reckless and stupid.

My lower lip trembled and I sucked it into my mouth. I had to get a grip. I didn’t deserve to wallow in self-pity. I needed to fix this.

I looked around the room to see if there was anything I could use to escape, but there was nothing. At least they hadn’t tied me up, not that my arms and legs would do much against an enemy.

They would have to be sufficient. My body was all I had.

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