Page 40 of The Brat's Bargain

"What were you saying about sitting ducks?" Damien's voice was strained, but Antonio could hear the smirk in it.

"Asshole," Antonio muttered, even as warmth bloomed in his chest at Damien's protective gesture. "I had it under control."

Damien's laugh was low and dark. "Sure you did, brat. Now how about you put that smart mouth to better use and figure out how we're getting past this shitstorm?"

Antonio's mind raced, eyes darting around the warehouse. Then he spotted it—a rickety catwalk above their attackers' position.

"There," he said, gesturing upward. "If we can get up there, we've got the high ground. Pick these fuckers off easy."

Damien's eyes followed Antonio's line of sight, a slow grin spreading across his face. "Knew there was a reason I kept you around, baby boy. Besides that sweet ass of yours."

Heat flooded Antonio's cheeks, arousal warring with the urgency of their situation. "Careful, Daddy," he purred. "Keep talking like that and I might just bend over right here."

Damien's eyes darkened, pupils blown wide with want. "Don't tempt me, brat. Now move that perky little ass of yours. We've got some heads to crack."

They made their way to the catwalk, Antonio's lithe form allowing him to slip through gaps Damien had to muscle his way past. As they reached the top, Antonio couldn't resist a teasing wiggle of his hips.

"Enjoying the view back there, old man?"

Damien's hand connected with Antonio's ass in a sharp smack, the sting of it sending sparks of pleasure up Antonio's spine. "Eyes on the prize, baby," Damien growled. "You can tease Daddy all you want when we're done here."

The promise in those words sent a shiver through Antonio. He forced himself to focus, taking up position at the railing.

What followed was a masterclass in teamwork. Antonio's keen eye and steady hand picked off targets with surgical precision, while Damien's raw power and tactical mind kept them one step ahead of the enemy. By the time they reached the inner sanctum, the coalition's forces were in disarray.

They burst through the doors to find the coalition leaders huddled around a table, panic clear on their faces. At the head stood a figure that made Antonio's blood run cold—Gina Caruso, Damien's former right-hand woman turned traitor.

"Well, well," Gina drawled, her smile sharp and dangerous. "If it isn't the lovebirds themselves. Come to join the party?"

Damien's eyes narrowed, his body coiled tight with barely contained fury. "It's over, Gina. Surrender now, and maybe I'll let you walk out of here with all your limbs intact."

Gina's laugh was cold and brittle. "Oh, Damien. Always so dramatic. You really think I'd go down that easy?"

In a flash, she had a gun trained on them. Antonio reacted on instinct, shoving Damien aside as the shot rang out. He felt a searing pain along his arm—the bullet had grazed him, but nothing more.

"Antonio!" Damien's roar of fury filled the room as he returned fire.

What followed was a chaotic firefight, bullets flying and bodies hitting the floor. Through it all, Antonio and Damien moved as one, covering each other's backs and slowly but surely gaining the upper hand.

Finally, it was just Gina left standing, her back against the wall and her gun trained on Antonio's head.

"One more step," she snarled, "and lover boy here gets a third eye."

Damien froze, his eyes blazing with a mixture of rage and fear. "Let him go, Gina. This is between you and me."

Gina's laugh was borderline hysterical. "Oh, but it's not, is it? Not anymore. Not since you decided to throw everything away for this pretty little piece of ass."

Antonio bristled at the insult, but kept his mouth shut. He could see Damien's mind working, searching for a way out of this standoff.

"You're right," Damien said, his voice surprisingly calm. "Antonio changed everything. He made me see that there could be more to life than just power and control. That maybe, just maybe, there was room for love in our fucked-up world."

Gina's sneer deepened, but Antonio could see the flicker of doubt in her eyes. "Love?" she spat. "In our world? Don't make me laugh, Damien. You taught me better than that."

"I was wrong," Damien admitted, taking a careful step forward. "We were both wrong, Gina. But it's not too late to change things. To build something better."

For a moment, it seemed like Damien's words might be getting through. Gina's grip on the gun wavered, uncertainty clear on her face.

But then her features hardened, resolve settling in her eyes. "No," she snarled. "No, I won't let you destroy everything we've built. Everything I've sacrificed for."

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