Page 104 of Savage Prince

A gunshot echoes through the monitor and panic claws its way up my chest until I see Pietro fall.

Shit.

Santi and Federico barrel inside, slamming the door behind them, and I grit out another curse. A furious tangle of betrayal and anger rush my insides. The two of them were working together all along. But why? Federico was in line to inherit the Sartori territory from his father, but Santi? What does he have to do with all of this?

Shoving the pointless thoughts down for now, I spin toward the master closet. There is no way I’ll let those two assholes kill the man I love.

What the actual fuck?

I freeze before my fingers finish typing out the code on the safe. My heart stutters, then kicks up into overdrive. Did I just say love? Holy shit. I love Antonio… Damn it. I do. My breaths come out faster, echoing the ragged tempo of my heart asrealization sets in. It’s the last thing I wanted, the absolute worst thing for me, but Ilovehim.

And I willnotlose him today.

My fingers fly across the keyboard and the safe clicks open, revealing an assortment of weapons. I take the Glock, relishing in the familiar feel of the weapon in my palm, then I tuck a knife into my pant leg. Beside the weapons sits a burner phone. I hesitate a moment before powering it on, typing out a quick message and then shoving it into my jeans pocket. Just in case.

Moving silently, I unlock the bedroom door, holding my breath. The world narrows to the barrel of my Glock as I step into the hallway, the sound of my footfalls nonexistent. My heart pounds in my ears, adrenaline surging through my veins like wildfire. Antonio is somewhere in the foyer, held by Santi and Federico, and desperation claws at me with icy fingers.

I haven’t heard his voice since he shouted what seems like forever go. He didn’t really expect me to run, did he? If so, this relationship is never going to work out.

Turning the corridor, I force my thoughts to focus. The nervous rambling is not helping. Drawing in a steadying breath, I creep around the final corner and spot them before they see me. Antonio is bound and gagged, blood dribbling from a gash across his forehead. Santi and Federico stand on either side of him, my friend pulling his arm back for another blow. Fury flows like lava through my veins. How dare they try to take him away from me? Their laughter cuts through the stale air as Santi lands another punch to Toni’s face, and the sound of cracking bone only fuels my rage. I don’t hesitate.

“Fuck you, asshole!”

“No, Serena, don’t!” Antonio’s desperate muffled cry falls on deaf ears.

My finger squeezes the trigger, sending a bullet flying toward Santi. He dives behind the couch, but the shot grazes his arm.Federico returns fire, his bullets slicing past me, too close, dinging the wood planks at my feet. I duck behind an oversized chest in the living room, barely catching my breath, steeling myself for the next move.

“Surrender, Serena! You can't win this, sweetie.” Santi's voice echoes through the space, mocking and confident. Nothing like the friend I’d spent countlessaperitiviwith over the past few months. The hurt threatens to erupt, to bowl me over, but I grit my teeth, my thoughts only on Antonio. Now is not the time to get sentimental. Santi is a traitorous bastard, and he deserves to die. Shaking my head even though they can't see me, I shout, “Go to hell, youpezzo di merda.” Surrender isn't in my vocabulary, especially not when Antonio's life hangs in the balance.

I peek around the corner of the wooden chest, and Antonio’s frenzied eyes meet mine. Somehow, he’s gotten the gag off. He’s only a few yards away; I can almost touch him. “Go!” he mouths, but I shake my head.

“I’m not leaving you,” I hiss.

He mutters a colorful array of expletives, cursing my stubbornness, and I toss him a good eyeroll before ducking under cover again. The movement presses the cool blade tucked in my pant leg against my skin, triggering an idea. If I can just get the knife to Toni maybe he can use it to jimmy the handcuffs. Now, I just have to figure out how to slip it to him undetected.

Six feet of open living room lie between us.

From behind my cover, I fire two quick shots toward where Santi's voice had come from. There's a satisfying shout of pain, and a grin splits my lips.Gotcha, traitorshit. I don’t waste a second to leap out from behind the chest and dart by Antonio, dropping the knife between his cuffed hands before sliding along the floor and ducking behind another couch.

Federico, now bleeding and furious, charges at me, firing wildly. I roll to the side, the heat of the bullets much too close to my skin.

“Serena, watch out!” Antonio shouts.

I scramble to my feet as pain sears through my shoulder.Son of a bitch! That bullet must have grazed me. Damn it. Blood trickles down my arm, and I grit through the pain. The room spins slightly, but I push through the dizziness.

Antonio's eyes meet mine, wide with fury and desperation. “Serena!” He kicks and squirms against the restraints, the knife hidden in his fist, but he’s no match for the metal handcuffs. “Leave her alone or I swear toDio, when I get loose, I’ll rip your heads off and parade around the city wearing your skulls as hats.”

The gruesome threat is enough to reignite the fury and focus within me.

With a fierce cry, I rush Federico, dodging his clumsy attempts to grab me. I'm close enough to see his surprise as I land a solid punch to his jaw, followed by a quick kick that sends his gun skittering across the floor. But before I can celebrate, a sharp pain explodes across the back of my head.Shit, ow! Santi looms behind me, and I curse myself for letting my guard down for a second.

The gun drops from my numb fingers as Santi's arm locks around my neck, pulling my back against him. "Thought you could outgun us, Sere?" he hisses in my ear, his breath foul against my cheek. “I’d heard you were good, but this was pathetic.” I struggle, trying to break free, but the world begins to blur, his grip tightening like a vise.

“How could you, Santi?” I choke out.

“It was easy. You were so desperate for a friend, to have someone at your side that you never once questioned anything.”

His words spear me in the chest, each one cutting deeper than the last. “Why? Why are you doing this?”

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