Page 64 of Fatal Bonds

I see red at the thought of Emiliano laying a hand on Lindsey. Pulse roaring in my ears, I wrench my arm sideways, and the man’s vertebrae snaps from the jarring force. He goes limp, and I drop him on the floor, not bothering to check if he’s dead before I spin toward the door. I kick it in, splintering the wood around the handle on my first try as rage drives me forward. I know better than to burst into a room without someone to have my back, armed with only my fists, and sure that my enemy is inside, but nothing is going to stop me from getting to Lindsey before Emiliano can.

She stands at the back of the room, as far from me as possible—and thankfully, some distance from Emiliano as well. But he has a gun pointed at her, and she looks pale beneath her mask as she slowly lowers her dress over one shoulder. She freezes when she sees me, her eyes round and scared, and a gasp rushes past her lips. Adrenaline surges through my veins as I jump into action.

From the corner of my eye, I catch sight of the guards standing in front of the doors on either side of the room, but I categorize them as secondary threats as I close the distance between me and the Italian don in a matter of seconds. He barely has time to turn and find out what made Lindsey pause before I’m on him. His eyes widen as I jerk his hands up, aiming the gun at the ceiling, and knock it from his grasp. It flies across the room, clattering against the wall before hitting the floor.

I don’t bother looking for it. Instead, I grip him by his shirt collar with one hand and slam my knuckles into his jaw. “I’ll fucking kill you, Costanzo,” I snarl, laying into him with my fist.

His arms come up to shield his face, but nothing is going to stop me from beating the bastard to death with my bare hands. I don’t care what it takes. All the hatred, the unending rage that has consumed me for so long comes pouring out as my vision tunnels on the monster who dared hurt my sister’s little girl—the man who has probably forced himself on countless women like he tried to do with Lindsey.

“Maks!” she screams, her voice coming to me as if from far away, but I can’t stop now. I won’t stop until he no longer has a face to breathe out of, and a dark sense of satisfaction rises inside me when blood paints my knuckles red.

Three strong sets of hands grab me from behind, hauling me away from Emiliano as I howl in frustration. I don’t know where the third guard came from, but he adds just enough extra manpower that, no matter how furious I am, I can’t shake them. Anytime I break one man’s grip, another pulls me back, restraining me long enough that all three can grab hold to move me once more.

Don Costanzo chuckles as he wipes the blood from his lip, checking to see that it is, in fact, bleeding before he turns to face me. The satisfaction in his eyes makes me want to shove his teeth down his throat. I lunge for him with a snarl, but his men hold me back, their feet shuffling across the floor as I drag them forward a foot before they can stop me.

“Just as hot-tempered and reckless as always, I see,” Emiliano taunts. “Too bad you didn’t kill me when you had the chance. I promise, that’s the closest you’ll ever get.”

“We’ll see about that,” I growl, leaning forward to get in his face. Another inch or so, and I could headbutt him.

“You just don’t get it, do you, Maks? This city andeveryonein it belong to me. The sooner you learn that, the fewer people you’ll get hurt.”

Behind Emiliano, Lindsey slowly starts to creep toward the door, and my pulse skyrockets. I can’t let him see what she’s doing, so I scramble for a way to keep him occupied until she can escape.

“You violated my niece to prove that Chicago belongs to you?” I demand.

“I didn’t think I needed to prove a point when I took her, Maksim. I thought you understood that I can have whatever and whoever I want. The issue here is that you ever thought otherwise, so let’s just set the record straight. She was practically begging for it, prancing around in that little yellow bikini that day—putting on a show for me.”

My ears start ringing again as my vision tunnels. “She was achildyou fucking piece of shit. She’sstilla child. Of course that wasn’t for you. She was just innocent enough to think she was safe around you. And I’m the sucker who let her believe it.”

Emiliano smirks. “You always did have a soft heart. That’s what makes you weak. Women like strength, Maks. They need a firm hand to know their place. Here, I’ll show you,” he says, turning to catch Lindsey halfway to the door.

Growling, I struggle again to break free, but the men’s hold is too strong, and my stomach plummets as the don grabs Lindsey by her hair as she tries to make a run for it. She cries out, her hands going to his fist to try and ease the pain as he pulls her back, and she stumbles into his chest.

Fuck.

If Lucian were going to help us, he would have been here by now, so I’m fairly confident he’s bailed—probably ready to cut his losses rather than getting mixed up in our sticky situation. That means Lindsey and I are on our own. But I can’t shake the men holding me back.

“Why don’t you just stand there and watch while I have my way with your pretty little sidepiece, hmm? I’ll show you how wet she can get for me.”

Explosive fury rips through my chest, and I struggle again, straining to break free.

Lindsey puts up an impressive amount of fight, letting go of his hand as she reaches back to claw at Emiliano’s face. He gives a pained yell as she draws blood with her fingernails, and for a second, when his grip loosens, I think she might get away. But he grabs her by the throat with one hand, trapping her arms across her chest with the other as he pulls her firmly against him.

“You want it rough?” he taunts, his lips close to her ear, and Lindsey flinches.

“Let her go,” I growl, wrenching my arm hard enough that I send one of Emiliano’s men to the floor.

Then I double over as another punches me in the solar plexus hard enough to knock the air from my lungs. Before I can pull myself together, all three men have regained a firm hold.

“What do you say, sweetheart? Shall we see what’s under this dress?” Emiliano teases, releasing Lindsey’s throat to reach for the thigh-high slit of her dress that’s suddenly far too high for my comfort.

“I would rather die,” she spits, trying to squirm free.

His hand pauses on her hip bone, his fingers flexing with the effort to maintain control of her, and I can see the gears turning as he realizes she might not be as easy to overpower as he first thought. A smug satisfaction rises in my belly at the determination of my girl—that’s what Lindsey is,mygirl. She’s the only woman for me, and I don’t care if I have to move heaven and earth, I won’t let Emiliano take her from me.

“That can be arranged,” he hisses, his eyes shifting to the gun that’s on the ground halfway across the room.

He shoves Lindsey hard enough that she hits the floor on her hands and knees, crying out in pain. She doesn’t pause to nurse her injuries, though. Scrambling up onto her feet despite her cumbersome heels and dress, she rushes toward the door as fast as she can. But Emiliano is going to make it to the gun faster. He’s going to shoot her, and the realization blasts through me like a bomb. All I see is red as I find a single-minded focus to stop him, and with a strength I didn’t know I had, I rip free of the men holding me back.

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