Page 74 of Sin City Obsession

As one, the men shrank back toward the rock, using the rock’s natural darkness and remaining shadow to help disguise their presence.

“Reinforcements?” Em whispered.

“Doesn’t seem like they were expecting any,” Cristiano replied.

“Well we sure fucking aren’t,” Rocco said sharply. He could see the dirt cloud now, even in the encroaching darkness.

“It’s a motorbike,” one of his soldiers whispered. “My nephew has one. I hear it all the damn time.”

Rocco scowled as the motorbike came into view. It was angled to roll right past them, and definitely not slowing down. Motorbikes weren’t uncommon, and deserts with natural dunes were known for being popular places to ride. But there was no goddamn way this person just happened to be showing up right then, right there—headed right for Viktor fucking Sobol.

There was something like a laugh in Cristiano’s voice as the bike sailed past, obscuring them in dirt. “Don’t suppose that other guy might’ve put a hit on Sobol?”

Rocco growled. “I’ll slit his fucking throat if he did.” He took a step forward, despite knowing he shouldn’t, but logic—and two pairs of hands—drew him short as the rider suddenly swerved wide.

Gunfire exploded into the night, one-sided shots evolving immediately into a shootout. The rider had gone straight for Sobol, and obviously caught them off-guard. But they were just one person.

Rocco’s eyes widened and his heart came to a sudden, full stop as he watched the assailant duck-and-weave … in a dress.

“Uh, guys,” Ryoma said through the comm in their ears, “why does Mystery Rider look like Alessa?”

Rocco’s grip tightened on his gun and he shrugged off the one hand still thoughtlessly trying to hold him out of sight. “Because itis.” As wildly outrageous as it was, there was no doubt in his mind who the crazy woman was.

She was his.

Chapter twenty-two

What Makes a Queen

Alessa had never actuallymetViktor Sobol, but her longtime friends who spent too many hours online had very helpfully acquired a small pile of information for her while she’d been in the air. Including recent photographs of him and his higher-ranking officers—one of whom she’d just put a bullet in. The other guy she hadn’t seen in the digital file, but that only meant so much.

What did bother her, greatly, was that she had enough faith in Miguel’s skills to be sure he knewwhat the fuck he was saying when he told her he was tracking their guys’ signals to this location. But she hadn’t seen anyone other than Sobol and his three human shields.

Granted, the sun was down, so it wasn’t exactly well-lit, and she’d been going faster than she should have for a woman not accustomed to driving anything at all on that type of terrain. It wasn’t impossible she’d missed a person or three. At the moment, she had to pin her hopes on that, because in the time it had taken her to put down the first two of Sobol’s companions, she’d found herself with two more guns squarely aimed at her.

She didn’t actually know why they weren’t shooting. Yeah, she had a gun, and yeah, she’d managed to round it on Viktor himself before everything came to a Hollywood stand-still. But she was obviously outgunned and outnumbered.

The larger, more rotund of the two squaring off with her raised his lips in a leering smile. “I’m not having a good evening, my dear. But underneath that feral ferocity of yours, I can see where you might be worth keeping around. If you agree to drop that gun, that is.”

She let her lip curl in distaste. She would much rather have told Sobol to go suck on a cactus, but they would probably immediately shoot her. She hadn’t exactly slipped into any Kevlar as she’d rushed out of the airport.Hell, I didn’t even stop to change into pants.In hindsight, that had been dumb. But at least she’d left her suitcase with the guy Ugo had sent to pick her up.

In exchange for what weapons she could carry, of course.

Exhaling slowly, Alessa removed one hand from the grip of her gun and spread it out, palm splayed, in a classic show of submission. “I know when I’m caught,” she said. She let the tension slip into her tone, but still measured her words. They were not a true acknowledgment of surrender and she sure as hell wasn’t about to let Viktor Sobol touch her.

He didn’t seem to translate it that way. He jabbed his elbow in his underling’s direction. “Go, grab her. Tie her up with something.”

To his credit, the other guy—the other face she’d been sent—looked skeptical. “Boss,” he said in a matching tone.

Viktor scowled. “I’ve had a shit day. I want to get out of here, and I wouldn’t mind relieving myself in some tight pussy later. If she’s any good, you can use her after.”

I’m going to be sick.Her hand flexed over the gun. She really, really wanted to shoot him. Several times.

His man sighed and lowered his weapon, taking a step forward. In the next instant, two shots rang out, so close together they couldn’t possibly have come from the same gun. The man about to approach her twisted sideways from the impact and fell directly across Sobol’s feet.

Alessa’s eyes widened and her breath hitched. Inappropriate excitement tingled down her spine.

Sobol reared back, his gun swinging to the side. “You!”

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