Page 70 of Stolen Vows
Only after my revenge can we enjoy a peaceful life.
Pietro Denaro must die an agonizing, brutal death.
I fold my large frame into the passenger seat of the car waiting at the end of our front walk.Noah pulls out into traffic.I meet Eric’s eyes, the bodyguard my wife is most familiar with, through my sideview mirror as we pass his parallel parked car.He nods, vowing to keep vigil over Valentina while I am away.
Noah catches me up on recent events as I take the extra handgun he always stashes in the glove compartment and slip it into the empty holster on my chest harness.
He quirks a brow but doesn’t comment.
As he turns the final corner, the setting sun reflects off the glass shopfronts and blinds us both.
Glass shatters and metal crunches as a green taxi swerves into our lane and sideswipes the front passenger side of our car.Before the car stops rocking, a second vehicle slams into the back of ours.
Noah’s curse repeats in my mind as his white-knuckled grip on the wheel flashes through my vision.I swing my attention outside the car, searching for the next hit.
One tap equals an accident.Two taps equal a trap.Three—I yank Noah into my lap by his nape as barrels emerge from the lowered windows of a passing car.The pop of gunshots sounds before bullets whiz through the air.Fire streaks through my shoulder.Metallic pings ring in my ears.
We need to get out of the car, but we’re pinned.
A second nondescript silver sedan with their windows down and barrels peeking through the openings follows the first.
Noah fights my grip.
“Stay down,” I yell through the ruckus.
Noah contorts himself, hooks an arm around the back of my neck, and yanks me down on top of him as he wedges his shoulders deeper into the footwell.
My detached mind wonders how the motherfucker is so limber when he has so much bulk.
Several bullets lodge in the back of my seat and my headrest.
The kid saved my life.
Through the commotion, the sound of the green taxi’s manual window rolling down less than a foot away from me catches my attention.
“Move.Get out,” I snarl.
Noah releases me and kicks open his door.He jumps out as he scans the area with his pistol in his hand.As I climb over the center console, he darts around the hood of the car and yells at the taxi driver.He holds the man at gunpoint as I crawl out of the vehicle.
Having no ties to the car since we ‘borrowed’ it from the impound lot and I already took the gun from the glovebox, we leave it behind without hesitation.Noah tosses me his jacket to hide the wound on my shoulder before we tuck our heads down and blend into the crowd.A few blocks away, I pull my phone out of my pocket and snarl.
Noah reads my messages over my shoulder and curses.
“He feinted.That fucking coward,” he spits.
I shrug with my uninjured shoulder and thumb out a few messages before tucking my phone back into my pocket.
“It’s not the end of the world,” I say with a grimace.He was bound to do something desperate, but we never thought he’d have the balls to attack us in the streets of the Russo territory.
Did you see the tat on the taxi driver’s neck?”Noah asks.
I nod.
“He must’ve scraped together some funds and hired a gang from another city,” Noah says.
I nod again and skirt around a homeless man too cracked out to scurry away.
“What now, boss?”Noah asks.
