Page 148 of His Juliet

“Romeo, wait,” Leona called out, catching up with me. “We have to think this through. How did they die? Neither of them have significant external injuries. We need a plan?—”

I cocked my gun. “I only have one plan now.”

I would destroy every Albanian here. Every single one of them were complicit in hurting her. And if I went down in the fight?

Even better.

Two massive doors came into view.

The great hall.

I ignored Leona’s hissed warnings and threw the doors open, guns blazing.

The sight that greeted me stopped me in my tracks.

72

ROMEO

“Drop your weapons!”

A dozen guns fixed on me.

My mind stuttered. What the fuck was this?

What looked like over one hundred women dressed in traditional wedding garb surrounded our soldiers, their attention now fixed on Leona and me. Stranger still were the hundreds of men collapsed around them, dead. Their bodies littered the floor and slumped over long, decorated tables.

The women paid them no mind.

“Drop it!” shouted a beautiful woman with long brown hair. She carried herself like the ringleader, standing tall as she pointed her gun at me. If she thought for one second that I was going to surrender, that I gave a shit about my life, she was sorely mistaken.

I pointed my weapon at her. “Give me one good reason.” My voice was low and flat, the darkness having fully taken over my soul.

“If you ever want to see Juliet alive again, you will drop your gun,” she said.

Rage burned through me. “Too late. Juliet is dead!”

Matteo’s eyes flashed as he met my grief-stricken face.

“Juliet is not dead,” she said with infuriating calm. “But she will be soon if you don’t lower your gun.”

My heartbeat echoed in my eardrums. “You’re lying.”

She cocked her head. “Is that a risk you’re willing to take?”

Fuck.

My wild eyes met Matteo’s and he nodded. His gun lay on the floor by his feet. Beside me, Leona slowly put down her weapon.

Everything in me protested as I slowly crouched down and placed my gun on the floor, but I kept the one tucked in my waistband behind my back in place.

The woman lowered her gun slightly. “Welcome, Romeo De Luca. I’m glad you could join us.”

“How do you know my name?”

“I know much more than your name.”

“Then maybe you’ll be so kind as to tell me yours,” I snarled, my face a mask of contempt.

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