Page 78 of Twins for the Mafia Heir

“No,” I say, my tone even, not a trace of hesitation. “But I will be.”

Robert opens the front of his jacket and pulls two handguns out of a hidden pocket. I realize from the bulk of the jacket that he’s not as big a man as he initially looked, but that his suit is padded to hold these hidden weapons without being noticed by a pat down. He hands both guns to me. I have to assume he’s got more smuggled away on his person if he’s willing to give them up, so I take them without a second thought, offering a brief, silent thanks before slipping out of the room, my mind already focused on the next move.

I find three younger Ashwood men and an older Ashwood woman outside. They’re all sitting on the terrace, with the woman complaining loudly about her hot flashes and the men apparently trapped into entertaining her. When I whisper at them, the womanhowlswith shock. To her credit, she immediately covers it up with,

“By jove, Harry! Did you see that duck! I swear, it flew right at my face!”

“You’re all right, Auntie,” one of the men, Harry, says almost as loudly. “I’m sure they don’t bite.”

Once they’ve settled down, I repeat my message to them. To my surprise, the older woman seems the most anticipatory of the coming violence.

“I missed the fox hunt this year, so this will be a right fine replacement!”

There’s one more Ashwood to track down, and I finally find him in a room upstairs, drinking tea and reading in his armchair. He nearly flings the tea at me when I break in, but despite his enormous bottle glass spectacles, he recognizes me just in time. I relay my call to action, and am moving again in seconds.

I’m back at the bottom of the house and on my way through the cellar that leads to the dungeon when a shadow moves in the corner of my eye. I pull one of the guns Robert lent me- and immediately throw my aim up toward the ceiling.

“Paul!!” I hiss, my body sagging with relief. “You found me!”

“‘Course I did,” Paul says, coming to meet me out of the darkness on the other side of the room. “I had to know you’d somehow end up in the place we promised to avoid.”

I grin, feeling better about this entire plan already. “I’m springing Achilles, and his relatives are storming the house. You should probably stay close to us, since they don’t know you.”

“Sounds like a plan, kid. Lead the way.”

Chapter 43

Achilles

Emma has been gone for too long.

Once again, Wesley Hall is going to be the witness to another massacre. But instead of being one of the men sowing death in every room and hall, I’m not armed, and I’m trapped in a cell below the house.

Whoever fires the most shots will reach me first, and when they do, I’ll be a fish in a barrel. And Emma will be-

I’m over the initial shock of seeing her and already regretting that I reacted with frustration instead of joy. She’s not a reckless person. If she was caught, it wasn’t because she was being careless. She certainly didn’t walk through the front doors of the place like I did. I should’ve asked her if she was hurt, when she got back to England, orwhatbrought her back. She tried to find me at the safe house, but why?

I grip the bars of my cell, but what the hell am I going to do, yank them out of the ground?! I have nothing on me to pick the lock, no weapon to shoot it open with, and I’m too big to justmeltthrough the door like Emma did. I want to scream my frustration, but I shouldn’t be making enough noise to grab the attention of someone upstairs. As much as it kills me, there’snothing I can do until someone comes down here to kill me or set me free-

Silent as a shadow, Emma’s small figure slips through the heavy wooden door at the end of the hall. I can hardly believe I’m seeing her, whole and alive, even when she makes it to the front of my cell and starts undoing the wires at the end of the bracelet in her hands. There are two handguns stuffed into her jeans that she must have also pilfered from my room. Before I can even think of words of praise or relief or apology, she has the lock on my door clicking open, and I don’t have to use words anymore.

My door swings open, and I crush Emma’s body against mine and my mouth into hers.

She tastes just as sweet as I remember, but not as soft. She’s tense against me, her breath held.

I pull back, worried I’ve hurt her, but she only stares up at me with shock and confusion.

And why wouldn’t she, when I’ve been nothing but angry and cruel?

“I’m so sorry, Emma,” I tell her, cradling her face in my hands as tenderly as I can, even though I want nothing more than to hold her as tight as I’m able. “I’ve been an absolute bastard to you. You were within every right to keep your identity from me, and I didn’t listen when you tried to explain. I was shocked you came back, not because I didn’t want you to- I’ve been wanting you back since the day I sent you away- but because I couldn’t imagine what you wanted with me after I’d been so vile.”

Emma’s grey eyes stare into mine, too wide and glassy. She blinks, and tears fall down her cheeks, gutting me. “You… you wanted me back?” she whispers.

“Every day,” I tell her firmly. “Every fucking day. I just couldn’t face my own idiocy. I’m sorry. I can never tell you how much.”

Her trembling lips curl in a smile. “I’ll let you make it up to me,” she says, and I take that as an invitation to kiss her again. Before I can, though, she pulls back a little. Her smile is more uncertain. “I came back because I- I had to tell you. I’m… I’m pregnant, Achilles.”

For the second time today, my heart jerks to a stop in my chest. It hurts, but it’s not a bad pain. “You- you are?”

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