Page 79 of Beautiful Agony

A sickening crunch follows, then static. The connection dies.

"Move in, now!" I bark into my radio, already running toward the entrance. "Secure Freddy. Grab both Mackland and that crazy bitch."

My men emerge from the shadows, weapons drawn. As much as I despise Freddy, I won't let him die.

Not when his death will now break Lacey's heart.

I burst through the door, gun raised, heart thundering. The scene hits me like a punch to the gut—Freddy on his knees, face bloodied, with a shotgun pressed to the back of his head.

But no sign of Sayanaa anywhere.

My finger squeezes the trigger the instant I spot the man holding the gun. The shot rings out in perfect synchronization with his own.

Freddy crumples forward as my bullet tears through the man's arm.

"Open fire!" I roar as guards come pouring from the corners, guns blazing.

But I'm already moving, focused solely on the bastard I just shot. He's trying to scramble away, clutching his bleeding arm.

I tackle him hard, slamming him into the grimy floor.

"Mackland?" I snarl.

"What's it to you, wise guy?"

Good enough.

Gunfire erupts around us. My men continue exchanging fire with the other casino guards. The air fills with the smell of gunpowder and the sound of screams. But something pulls my attention away from Mackland's pained face.

Movement.

I look over at Freddy's prone form. His chest rises and falls in shallow breaths. There's a horrific gash along the side of his head where the shotgun blast grazed him, but he's alive.

Relief floods through me, not for Freddy's sake, but for Lacey's.

The thought of Lacey steels my resolve. I turn back to Mackland, who's trying to reach for a backup piece with his good arm. I slam his wrist into the floor before his fingers can close around the grip.

"Don't even think about it. You're coming with me."

Around me, the sound of gunfire starts to die down as my men gain control of the casino floor. The remaining guards drop their weapons, knowing they're outmatched.

"Clear!" Mikhail calls from the back room.

"Clear here too," Anton echoes from the stairs.

I haul Mackland up by his collar, ignoring his pained grunt. "Bind him," I order two of my men. They quickly zip-tie his hands behind his back and march him outside.

My phone buzzes. A text from the second team: "We got her."

Good. Sayanaa's capture means we can finally end this.

I look down at Freddy's crumpled form, watching the blood seep from the gash along his temple. His chest rises and falls in shallow, uneven breaths.

I quickly unknot my silk tie. The fabric is too fine for this kind of work, but it's better than nothing. I wrap it around his head, trying to stem the bleeding while avoiding the torn flesh where the buckshot grazed him.

"Mikhail! Anton!" I call out. "Help me get him to the car."

The twoboevikirush over immediately. Together, we lift Freddy as carefully as possible, as a pained groan tumbles from his lips. His skin has gone pale and clammy under the harsh fluorescent lights.

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