Page 150 of King of Obsession

‘Mia sola,’ I growled, rushing to her.

‘I told you I had your back,’ she muttered as I pulled her up, my lips and arms all over her. ‘And that his ass was mine.’

‘Fuckin’ right you did,’ I said, pulling her tight to me. ‘Fuckin’ hell you did.’

She was shaking like a leaf, the rifle still clutched in herwhite-knuckled grip.

‘Cleo, mia stella,’ I murmured. ‘It’s over. You can put the gun down now.’

She gazed at me with wild, unfocused eyes. For a terrifying second, I thought she might turn the weapon on me. But then she blinked, and her gaze cleared.

‘Is he is he dead?’ she whispered.

I glanced over at Franco’s prone form. ‘Si, e morto. Very much so.’

Cleo let out a shuddering breath and lowered the shotgun. I prised it from her hands, then gathered her into my arms.

‘You’re safe now,’ I murmured into her tresses. ‘I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.’

‘Never leave me, baby,’ she breathed.

‘Never.’

‘Never, Alessio, never.’

She clung to me, her face buried in my chest as silent sobs wracked her body. I held her, one hand stroking her hair, the other rubbing soothing circles on her back.

‘I’m sorry,’ she choked out. ‘I never meant for any of this to happen.’

‘Shh,’ I hushed her. ‘You have nothing to apologize for. That bastard got what he deserved.’

Just then, a roar came from behind me.

I swiveled and caught sight of Rocco, making a desperate charge toward us, a weapon in his still-working hand, his other flopping like a string by his side.

If ever there was a fine line between wise-ass and jackass, Rocco has sprinted past it. Bounding over dumb-ass, twisting past stupid-ass, headed for the finish line of dead-ass.

His eyes were wild, his face contorted in a snarl of rage anddesperation. He realized the battle was lost, but his pride wouldn’t let him retreat.

I pushed my woman behind me and raised my Sig, taking careful aim.

Time slowed as my finger tightened on the trigger.

The world narrowed to me, Rocco, and the space between us.

The gun kicked against my forearm as I fired, the burst of bullets finding their mark. Rocco jerked and spun, his body dancing a macabre puppet dance as the rounds tore through him.

He crumpled to the ground, his once-fierce eyes now vacant and lifeless.

The sight sapped the remaining fight from the remainder of the Conti capos.

They broke and ran, scattering like cockroaches exposed to sudden light.

We had won, but the victory was bitter in my mouth.

Cleo’s trembling hands came around me from behind as she buried her face in my spine.

I turned, dropped my weapons, and circled her waist and her nape, tucking her into me as the shock ebbed out of her.

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