Page 24 of High Stakes

Rocco shifts in his seat, itching to join them. “Should I go check?”

Leone glances back. “No. Stay with Fallon. We’ll check it out.”

Reluctantly, Rocco settles back, his hand resting near his gun. Leone and Milo disappear into the shadows, their figures ghostly in the dim light.

The following silence is suffocating, each second stretching into an agonizing eternity. Then, the night erupts.

Gunshots shatter the stillness, rapid and violent. I jump, hands flying to my mouth to stifle a scream. Rocco reacts instantly, diving across the seat to shield me as bullets rain down, shattering the windows.

“Stay down!” he yells, his voice tight as he keeps me pinned.

I can barely breathe, terror crashing over me. My thoughts race—Leone, Milo—are they still alive?

Headlights approach, and Rocco’s eyes widen. “Shit, we’ve got company!” He grabs my arm, yanking me from the car just as a truck rams it, sending it flipping through the air. I gasp, searching for Leone and Milo, but Rocco drags me toward the warehouse.

Inside, I find myself surrounded by massive wooden crates. Rocco shoves me behind one, his voice low and urgent.

“If anyone comes back who isn’t me, Milo, or Leone, shoot them,” he orders, handing me a gun and disappearing into the warehouse.

I clutch the weapon tightly, my heart racing as I crouch behind the crates. But footsteps approach from the back of the warehouse, and I know I can’t stay hidden for long. I crawl silently, searching for a better place to hide, spotting a loft office above the floor. Desperate, I start making my way there when a shadow shifts in the darkness.

I freeze, finger on the trigger.

It’s not an enemy—it’s Sloan, clutching his side, blood seeping through his fingers. He notices me and presses a finger to his lips, signaling for silence.

I crawl toward him, my heart pounding as I reach the stack of crates where he’s slumped, pale and barely breathing.

“Chi sei?” he rasps, eyes filled with pain and fear.

“Are you Sloan?” I ask, realizing this must be the man they’re looking for. He nods weakly.

Setting the gun aside, I press my jacket to his wounds, trying to staunch the bleeding. Sloan whispers rapidly in Italian, but I can’t understand a word.

Gunfire draws closer, and I peer over the crates, searching for Rocco. When I don’t see him, I realize I’ll have to move Sloan myself. We see a door, and he points to it just as a grunt echoes through the warehouse.

“Rocco!” I gasp, watching him get hit but still managing to take out the man who shot him.

Leone bursts through the roller doors, guns blazing. His fierce gaze scans the room just as a Russian thug enters, aiming at me. Sloan yanks me to the ground, firing off a shot and dropping the man as bullets tear through the air.

“Get down!” Sloan orders, taking out two more enemies. I obey, heart hammering in my chest.

“Fallon! Rocco!” Leone calls between shots, his voice strained. I notice the blood oozing from his shoulder as he moves with precision.

“Here!” Rocco shouts, emerging with his gun raised.

Leone eliminates the remaining threats and rushes to Sloan and me. His eyes widen at the sight of the wounded man, but he doesn’t hesitate. He opens a crate, pulling out more weapons.

“Che diavolo è successo?” he mutters to Sloan, and I hear the concern in his voice.

“Where’s Milo?” I ask, fear gripping me as I realize I haven’t seen him.

Sloan chuckles weakly, his face pale. “Don’t worry about Milo,” he says in thick accented English. “The man is a weapon.”

No sooner does he finish than more gunfire erupts outside. Leone’s backup arrives, but the fight isn’t over yet.

Leone grunts in pain, still clutching his bleeding shoulder. Despite the injury, he throws Sloan over his good shoulder. “Fallon, stay close,” he orders.

Rocco meets us at the tunnel entrance beneath the stairs.

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