Page 79 of Twins for the Mafia Heir

Emma nods. Her face is still in my hands, and my thumbs brush over her cheeks to catch more falling tears- only to catch mine too. “With twins.”

Twins. My heart feels like it’s doing cartwheels in my chest. God, despite all the mess we made between us, we made two children as well.

I wish I wasn’t standing in a dingy underground prison so I could properlyrespond.

“I’m so sorry I let you go,” I tell Emma instead. “We could be in Edinburgh getting officially married, thinking of baby names-”

“None of us want to be there,” she says, her smile impossibly soft. “We want to be in Ashwood House. So let’s get it back.”

I nod, and give her one last lingering kiss and holding her against my chest until our heartbeats entwine. The first gun goes off upstairs, and my grip tightens protectively over her. “Stay right next to me,” I tell her, removing one of the handguns from her waistband and tangling my other hand with hers.

Emma pulls the second gun and nods. “Paul is here too. He’ll watch our back.”

I look to the door at the end of the hall, where the man I shot in the arm on the American Warwick estate is standing watch. He glances back at us and catches my eye, a threat passing between us even in the dim light. He came here in support of Emma’s desires, but that doesn’t mean he’s entirely forgivenme.

I can respect that.

The gunshots are coming faster above our heads now. Men are shouting and footsteps are pounding up and down stairs. I need to get to Fantasia, need to put an end to all of this for good, but I also need to be more careful than I have up until this point for Emma’s sake. And our child’s.

The cellar outside the door is empty, and we hurry up the stairs to the first floor without trouble. There, we run into the first bodies. My cousin, Skylar, is slumped against the wall with dead mercs littering the hall ahead of him. He’s still conscious, but his hand is pressed against a bleeding wound in his stomach. He waves me off when I try to help him.

“Get that crazy bitch,” he hisses, “I can take another hit or two.”

On the stairs to the second floor we get caught between a group of mercs trying to barricade themselves inside a room, and two more coming up the stairs. Paul covers our backs, and Emma uses my body as a shield while holding her own aim steady. The banister next to my head explodes, sending a splinter of wood flying past my cheek.

I shoot two men, and Emma gets another before my uncles come down the hall from the other direction. Now the barricaded men are caught between us, and my uncles roar and charge in as I lay down covering fire. Carlisle picks up one of the hall tables at the top of the barricade and tosses it like a bar stool at a merc, toppling him and possibly shattering his spine. The last two mercs go down like dropped sacks, and Emma, Paul, and I press on down the hall.

We kick in every door as we pass it on our way to Fantasia’s room and clear each room to make sure we aren’t bracketed in by an ambush. My route through this house from a year ago is overlapping with the present. Emma’s hand fisted in the back of my suit jacket keeps me anchored in the here and now.

It takes me the first kick to realize we’ve reached my sister’s door. The lock snaps, but the door only opens a few inches. She’s shoved furniture up against it.

I hear her scream frantically from inside. “NO- GET AWAY FROM ME! DON’T HURT ME!”

Does she know it’s me, or does she think I’m one of the mercs? Have they threatened her before, or is she fighting with ghosts?! I don’t have time to think through it. I kick again, forcing the door open several more inches, and hear Fantasia shriek again, the sound dissolving into sobs. I hear the scrape of wood on wood, and for a second I think she’s trying to push another table in front of the door.

Then I realize she’s opened her window.

Her second story window.

“FANTASIA, NO!” I roar, throwing myself against her door with all my strength. The wood splinters on its hinges and crashes down over the barricade, and I leap with it. Fantasia has one leg up on the edge of the window, her hands gripping the threshold- but not tightly enough.

The last time I moved this fast, I was about to kill the men who’d dared to break into my daughter’s room.

I crash into Fantasia, hitting her at an angle to avoid both of us tumbling out the window. I spin, lifting her right off her feet, and slam my back against the wall with her body pinned against my chest. She screams and flails in my arms, but I don’t let go.

Adrenaline floods my veins, my whole body trembling, but I don’t loosen my grip.

Emma goes straight for the window, slamming it shut on the cold air. Fantasia stops fighting physically, but now her breath heaves and catches on angry sobs. Her fingers clutch at my arms, still holding her tight around the waist, but she’s not trying to pull me off of her.

She’s… clinging to me.

“It’s okay, little princess,” I gasp. “I’ve got you. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

We didn’t even need to capture Fantasia to chase off half the mercs in the house. Once they realized this wouldn’t be an easy paycheck, they left with their pockets stuffed with silverware. The ones that were left alive after our surprise attack surrendered as soon as they were told their boss was in our hands.

The Ashwoods fared well considering our small numbers. Harper’s and Carlisle’s body armor took several hits. Skylar was rushed to the hospital, and we won’t know if he’ll survive until after emergency surgery. The rest of us received scrapes and grazes, but are otherwise unharmed.

Fantasia will spend the night in the dungeon she put me into. Every one of her sobs tears holes in my chest, but I don’t let myself look back when I leave her down there.

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