Page 9 of My Sweetest Temptation

“I love you,” I told him, my own tears cascading down my cheeks.

He managed a small smile. “I love you too, sweetheart. Always.”

With a heavy heart, I turned back to the man. “Please let him go. I’ll do anything you want if you do.”

The man studied me, his expression unreadable. For a brief instant, it appeared he might give in, but then his lips curled into a cold smile. “Fine.”

“No. Leave her alone,” my father growled.

The stranger peered over my shoulder and shook his head. “Seeing as I have what I came for”—he glanced at me, then back at my father—“your services are no longer required.” In a swift motion, he pulled out a gun from inside his jacket and aimed it directly at my father.

“NO!” I screamed, but my plea went unanswered.

The man’s finger squeezed the trigger, releasing a muffled shot.

I froze.

The smell of gunpowder filled my nostrils, and warm liquid splattered across my face. I looked down to see my clothes and skin stained with my father’s blood.

I spun around, prepared to lunge at the heartless bastard, but my eyes widened at the sight before me. The stranger’s eyes bulged, and a gurgling sound escaped him as his hands desperately clutched his throat, trying to stop the flow of crimson that gushed between his fingers. When the man’s body crumpled to the floor, my gaze shifted to Uncle Malik, who was standing there with a large hunting knife in his hand that glistened with fresh blood.

I stood frozen, my mind struggling to comprehend what I had just seen. Uncle Malik’s lips moved, but his words were drowned out in silence. I watched as he wiped the blood from the knife and tucked the blade away. When his hands gripped my shoulders, the fog lifted just enough for me to hear his voice pierce through the daze.

“Gigi, snap out of it! We have to get the hell out of here.”

The sharp wail of sirens and the jarring sound of car doors slamming yanked me back to the present. Panic surged through me, and before I could process what to do next, Uncle Malik hoisted me over his shoulder and sprinted toward the back exit.

“Damn it!” he cursed and came to an abrupt stop. We could hear voices outside that grew louder, more insistent.

We were trapped.

Without hesitation, he steered us to the hidden closet, a secret door my parents had built long ago. As a child, I found comfort in that secret room, playing hide-and-seek in there, never understanding its true purpose until now.

My heart thudded rapidly as we heard the front door opening and heavy footsteps moving through the house. As the men spoke, my heart sunk.

“I told you we should’ve come with him to do the job,” one of the men growled.

“How the fuck did he get himself killed?” The other man’s voice was sharp. “Do you think it was the mother? Looks like the poor bitch put up a fight.”

“No,” the first man replied. “Someone else was here.”

Fear tightened around my throat as I listened to them speak. I squeezed my eyes shut. I wanted to scream, to rush out and kill them all, but Malik’s strong hand remained firmly over my mouth.

And then the closet door creaked open, and I stared directly into the face of another monster through the two-way mirror that hid from his view. He was tall, built like a wall of muscle, and his head was covered in tattoos that made him look even more dangerous. The deep scar that ran from his ear to his chin told stories of violence, while a dragon tattoo coiled around his neck, slithering beneath his shirt as if it were alive.

He stepped further into the walk-in closet, and Malik shoved me against his chest. Our bodies were pressed tightly together, but there was nowhere left to go. The man lunged forward, swiping the hangers aside, and fixed his gaze directly at the mirror we were hidden behind. We had a clear view of him, but he couldn’t see us.

I silently sighed in relief when the sirens came closer.

“Boss,” a deep voice said. “The police car’s coming up the road. What do you want us to do?”

My heart raced as I listened. How many men are there?

“Shit. Get into position,” the leader commanded. “You and Rico stay out of sight and let the cops walk in. We’ll handle it from here.”

“Yes, boss,” the man responded before I heard the door close behind him.

“What now?” the man asked, peeking his head out of the closet.

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