Page 55 of His to Honor

I don’t respond. What would I say at this point? I let Matteo lead me back down the aisle toward the ornate wooden doors that were sealed after our arrival. Two bodyguards move from the shadows to open the doors. They step outside ahead of us to check the coast is clear. That’s when all hell breaks loose.

One of them is propelled back into the church. Blood blooms across his pristine white shirt as he staggers and drops to the floor. Men in combat gear run up the steps toward us. There’s no time to bar the doors.

“Get down!” Matteo shoves me aside.

I dive between the pews and crawl on my belly toward a massive stone pillar as gunfire fills the air. As I take shelter, bullets whizz past me. I scan left and right, looking for an escape route and see Livvy crouched behind one of the wooden seats close to the front of the church. She’s clutching a gun close to her chest. I don’t know if she has it in her to use it.

Though I’m desperate to know what’s going on, I don’t dare stick my head around the edge of the pillar. Pieces of stone are being blasted off the column behind me. Men are screaming at each other. The ear-splitting cracks of shots fired from handguns compete with the loud, continuous popping from assault rifles.

As I’m scanning my surroundings for a way out, a man’s body drops next to me. Part of his face is missing. It’s a gruesome sight and bile rises in my throat. The tattoo on his neck, a dagger tells me he’s Bratva, one of Piotr Reznov’s men. I stare at him forlonger than I should, unable to look away. The image is going to be imprinted on my mind for years to come.

Just as I think this is never going to end, silence falls. Still, I don’t dare move. Distantly, I hear someone shout my name, but I stay put. Feet appear in front of me, and I look up to find Matteo looming over me. There’s blood on his clothing, but he doesn’t seem to be injured.

“None of it’s mine.” He must have seen me studying him. He holds out a hand and helps me to my feet. “Let’s get you out of here. Try not to look.”

I get that he wants to protect me, but I’m not that delicate. Though the scene is pretty horrific, relief sweeps over me as I realize most of the dead bodies belong to our assailants, whoever they are. Lorenzo is leaning against the wall, oozing blood from a nasty gash on his head, and Damiano’s arm hangs limply from his side like he’s injured.

Piotr Reznov, who’s completely unruffled as if he just took a stroll in the park, stands alongside two tattooed brutes, with guns pointed at three men who’re on their knees. One of them looks like the young guy who approached me at the nightclub. I want to plead for mercy on his behalf because I think he’s just a bit lost. Then he stares up at me with a malevolent gleam in his eye and the instinct to protect him disappears.

As we reach the door, Matteo sweeps me into his arms and carries me down to a black SUV at the bottom of the steps. He sets me down on the back seat.

“Wait here,” Matteo commands.

“Matt…”

“I mean it, Giulia. I don’t have time for your bullshit.”

Stunned that he’d speak to me like that after what just happened, I settle back against the seat, arms crossed over my chest as he shuts the door. He jogs up the steps of the church to speak to Damiano and Piotr Reznov, who’s got a hand wrapped around Livvy’s upper arm.

After a brief conversation, Matteo disappears into the church. Piotr drags Livvy down the steps and puts her in the passenger seat of the SUV before getting into the driver’s side.

“What’s happening?” I’m flung back against the seat as Piotr fires the engine and takes off at speed.

“Matteo wants me to get you out of here. He’s going to interrogate the assholes who attacked us.”

There’s so much for me to be upset about right now, but somehow that’s what finishes me off. Matteo should be by my side, ensuring I’m okay after that ordeal. I could have died in that church, we all could. I need the man who claims to love me to tell me it’s all over, that I’ll be fine. Damiano’s men are more than capable of getting answers about the attack, but of course Matteo wants to do it himself. Nothing is more important to him than dealing with his family’s enemies. I don’t want to take second place to that.

“Take me home,” I demand.

“That’s what I’m doing,” Reznov replies.

I meet his cool glare in the rearview mirror.

“Not to the villa, to New York.”

He shakes his head. “Can’t do it,dushka. You’re Matteo’s wife.”

“Please.” I’m not above begging. “I need to go home.”

His shoulders stiffen. “It’s not my place to interfere.”

A scream rips from my throat as I bang my head against the seat. This is so fucking frustrating, Livvy reaches around and places a hand on my knee. Tears stream down my face as I bow my head.

“Take her home,” Livvy says.

“Olivia.” The Russian’s tone holds a warning.

“Please, Piotr, do it for me.”

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