Page 85 of Use Me, Daddy

Santini’s smile faded, replaced by a look of feigned regret. “I was hoping we could avoid this,” he said. “But the Orlovs made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

The words hit like a booming round of thunder, and I felt the blood drain from my face.

“You sold me out,” I said, my voice low and dangerous. Honestly, I shouldn’t be surprised, knowing he had ties to the Orlovs, but I didn’t expect the tables to turn so quickly without a chance to at least negotiate terms first.

“It’s nothing personal, Morozov,” he said, backing toward the door. “Just business.”

The strangers moved forward, their hands reaching for concealed weapons, and the room erupted into chaos.

“Down!” I barked, pulling Amy to the floor as the first shot rang out.

Her eyes darted around the room, sharp and calculating. Even now, with danger closing in, she wasn’t panicking.

I pulled my Glock from its holster, firing off two quick shots that dropped the man nearest to us. Orlov’s men returned with gunfire of their own.

“Go, baby girl!” I ordered, shoving her toward a side alcove for cover as another round of bullets tore through the air.

But Amy didn’t run. Instead, she scrambled toward a fallen man, her hands moving deftly to his weapon—a sleek Sig Sauer pistol. I froze for a split second, disbelief and admiration flooding me as she checked the chamber like she’d done it a hundred times before.

“What the hell are you doing?” I growled, firing another shot to keep the men at bay.

She crouched beside me, the gun clutched tightly in her hands. “Helping!”

Her voice was steady, even as her hands trembled slightly. She fired her first shot, missing wide, but the second found its mark, clipping the shoulder of an advancing thug.

Damn.

I didn’t have time to scold, or even praise her, not with bullets flying and Santini himself nowhere to be seen. Another man rushed toward us, and I fired, dropping him in one clean shot. Amy spun around, firing at another attacker and forcing him into retreat.

“You’re full of surprises,” I muttered, ducking behind a display case.

“Is that your way of saying you’re impressed?” she shot back, her voice edged with adrenaline and defiance. There was a hint of a smirk on the edge of her lips.

I wanted to kiss it right off.

“Later,” I growled, though I couldn’t deny the surge of pride—and arousal—that rushed through me at the sight of her holding her own. “Head for the back exit,” I commanded, grabbing Amy’s arm as we made a break for it.

She nodded, her breathing ragged but her grip on the gun steady. Together, we moved through the chaos, covering each other as we fought our way toward safety.

We were close—so damn close—when I heard the shrill bark of an order in Russian, and suddenly, the air around us shifted.

Shit.

A heavy blow caught me from behind, and I stumbled, my grip on Amy slipping as two men surged forward. She turned, her eyes wide with panic as I shoved her toward the exit.

“Go!” I shouted, my voice harsh.

“No!” she cried, her gun raised, but I shook my head.

“Get her out of here!” I snarled to one of my men who’d made it through the chaos.

“Aleksei!” Amy’s voice cracked with desperation as she fought against the hands pulling her away.

I twisted, breaking free from the men surrounding me long enough to shove her toward the exit.

“Go, Amy! That’s an order!”

Her tear-filled eyes locked onto mine for a split second before my men dragged her away. The last thing I saw was her struggling against them, her voice calling my name as they disappeared into the shadows of the alley.

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