Page 68 of Conall's Reign

My heart pounded against my ribs. “Okay, baby. We’re coming. Does Sean have his phone? Can you turn it on?”

My heart pounded against my ribs, the sensation too erratic. I clenched my fist, grounding myself in the press of my nails against my palm.

“I’ve got it. I’ve got it,” Ilias said, looking up from his computer. “Let’s go.”

“We’re coming, baby. We’re on our way.”

Finn swore as he grabbed his gun. “Is she okay?”

“We’ll see. We move in fast and hard. No hesitation.”

I tried to suppress the emotions that surged in my throat like bile, choking me from the inside out at the thought of Francesca being hurt. Even as her brothers asked me questions in the car, eager to overanalyze every word she spoke, I focused on the mission — getting to my wife. Kill everyone who touched her. Burn it all down.

We poured out of the room like a war party, the tension thick and suffocating. The drive to the docks blurred into a haze of red lights flashing by and tires screeching against asphalt. I could barely hear Finn and Paddy strategizing beside me. I was focused on one thing: getting to Francesca.

As soon as we arrived at the warehouse, I opened the car door before the engine had completely stopped. With my gun drawn, I moved with lethal intent while the others fanned out behind me. The warehouse doors stood ajar, one swaying lopsidedly from a broken hinge. The smell of blood hit me first, thick and metallic. Then, I saw them.

Francesca sat slumped on the floor next to Sean, her hands pressed against his chest, his shirt open. My heart stuttered for a moment. She knelt shivering on the floor in her panties and bra, her dress folded to his wound, her weight pressed against her hands where they soaked the material through with blood.

Four counts in… hold… and three counts out. Breathe.

Cosimo Oliveto’s body lay crumpled on the far side of the room, blood pooling around his head. Remo kicked him as he moved through the room and spat on the body. “Coglione,” he said. Fucker.

"Francesca—are you hurt?” I unbuckled my weapons harness and pulled my shirt off, sliding it over her.

She shook her head, her eyes locked on Sean’s face. I exhaled sharply, adrenaline still pounding through me. Behind me, Finn and Paddy secured the area, checking corners for any lingering threats.

“It was a through and through, but he’s lost a lot of blood.” Francesca’s voice sounded mechanical, her eyes still fixed on Sean.

I lifted Francesca’s chin, making her look at me. “We’re going home. Now. Let Finn take over.”

“Sorella?” Angelo’s voice was tight and controlled, yet I could sense the worry beneath it. “What the hell happened?”

It was the question on everyone’s mind. We knew they had been ambushed and then taken to this secondary location. Sean’s weapon was missing, so who had killed Cosimo?

“We’ll discuss it later. Let’s concentrate on one thing at a time,” Ilias grumbled. Angelo exhaled sharply, opting not to engage in an argument.

I turned to Finn. “Help Sean get up. We’re moving.”

Sean groaned but managed to wrap an arm around Finn. I lifted Francesca into my arms and held her close as we exited the warehouse. The night air was sharp against my skin, but she hardly reacted, still driven by adrenaline and shock.

The car idled with its engine running. I opened the door and helped her inside. Sean groaned as Finn and Paddy settled him in. He looked like absolute shit. Exactly as expected after being beaten and then shot. I was surprised he’d been left alive if I were being honest. Surprised my wife was alive.

Grateful.

Beyond grateful.

I pulled Francesca close, pressing a kiss to her hair. “Thank God I found you.”

She trembled against me, fingers curling into my shirt. I counted her breaths again. Matched them to mine.

Four counts in… hold… three counts out.

Breathe.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

francesca

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