Page 88 of My Best Friend's Dad

CHAPTER 23

Jenna

“Vincenzo!” I screamed, but my voice was lost in the chaos of the fighting.

The guard swung, and Vincenzo went down hard. My heart stopped.

No, this couldn’t be happening. He had to be okay. He couldn’t be dead. He just couldn’t be. I needed to get to him. I had to be sure.

Ricci laughed, the sound cold and triumphant. “Looks like your hero isn’t so invincible after all.”

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. I couldn’t just sit here and do nothing. Desperation gave me strength, and I began to wriggle my wrists, trying to loosen the ropes. The rough fibers bit into my skin, but I didn’t care. I had to get free.

As I worked on my bindings, I glanced at the room. Ricci was momentarily distracted, barking orders at his remaining men.

He was underestimating me, and I wasn’t going to let an opportunity like this go to waste.

With one final, desperate effort, I slipped my hands free. I quickly untied my legs, my movements frantic and urgent.

I grabbed a metal rod lying nearby and rose to my feet. My vision swam, but I steadied myself, focusing on Ricci.

“Hey, Ricci!” I shouted, drawing his attention. His eyes widened in surprise as he saw me standing, the makeshift weapon in my hand.

“Sit back down,” he warned, but I was beyond listening at this point.

I swung the rod with all my might, aiming for his head. Ricci ducked, and the rod whistled past him. He lunged at me, but I stepped back, swinging again. This time, I connected, hitting him hard in the shoulder and he dropped his gun. He grunted in pain, his expression turning from shock to rage as it clattered to the floor.

“You little bitch!” he spat, grabbing for the rod.

I held on tight, refusing to let go. We struggled, the rod swinging between us, both of us fighting for control. He was stronger, but I was fueled by pure adrenaline and desperation.

I couldn’t let him win. Not now, notever.

With a surge of strength, I twisted the rod, wrenching it free from his grasp. I swung again, catching him in the side of the head. He staggered, and I took the opportunity to kick him as hard as I could. He fell back, crashing into a stack of crates.

I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop.

I raised the rod again, ready to strike, but Ricci kicked out, knocking my legs out from under me. I fell hard, hitting my head on the concrete floor, and the rod slipped from my hands. Ricci loomed over me, his eyes filled with murderous intent.

“This ends now,” he growled as he reached for his gun. He cocked it and pointed it in my direction. I gulped as I stared down the barrel.

“Don’t do this, Ricci,” I pleaded, my voice trembling far more than I cared for. “Please.”

“Ricci!” Vincenzo’s voice called out from behind me. A blanket of hope came over me and I breathed a sigh of relief at the knowledge that he was alright. I wanted to turn around and run into his arms, but I didn’t dare move, not with a gun pointing straight at my head.

“Ricci,” he called out, his voice hoarse but firm. “Take me instead. Let her go.”

I tentatively turned my head and watched as Vincenzo strode up beside me. There was a small stream of blood trailing down the back of his neck, but he looked okay otherwise.

My heart pounded hard in my chest as my gaze flicked back to Ricci.

Ricci’s smile widened, his eyes gleaming with sadistic delight.

I hated him.

“And why would I do that, Vincenzo? She’s just as useful as you are, maybe even more so. She’s your weakness.”

“Because you know I’m worth more to you alive,” Vincenzo said, taking a step out in front of me. “Turn me over to the FBI. Use me as your bargaining chip.”

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