Page 21 of Dark Desires
I turn just in time to see Isabella, her body twisting, a bullet grazing her arm.
Isabella cries out, her hand shooting to her arm, blood oozing between her fingers.
Every thought narrows down to one thing: Protect Isabella at all costs.
“Stay down!”
I reach for the gun holstered beneath my jacket. I pull it out in one swift motion, clicking off the safety and scanning the room.
My brothers are here—they move with precision, taking out their own weapons, taking cover and preparing to fight back.
A burst of gunfire cuts through the air, and I respond with a quick pair of gunshots in the direction of the attackers. I catch sight of Domenico Mancini, but he’s clear across the room with Yuri, shouting orders to his men.
Isabella looks at me from behind the table, her eyes wide with terror, but there’s something else, too—something fierce. She’s not going to just sit there and be a victim, and damn it if I don’t admire her for it. But now’s not the time for admiration.
“Stay there!”
She nods, her lips pressed into a thin line, but I can see her hands shaking, her eyes darting between Stephania and me. She’s scared, and that fear cuts me deeper than I’d like to admit.
I move swiftly, taking down a masked gunman who turns his attention my way with a quick strike of my gun to the back of his head. He drops, and I kick his weapon clear.
One less asshole to worry about.
Around me, my brothers are in action—Yuri with his usual brutal efficiency, Luk with his calm precision.
Another man turns toward me, his gun raised, and I pull the trigger, a single shot dropping him to the floor. Blood spatters the polished marble.
“Isabella!” I shout again, my eyes finding her crouched position. She looks up, and our gazes meet. Her hand is pressed to her arm, blood trickling down.
I spot another of the attackers, seeming to lock eyes with Isabella. Maybe he knows who she is, that she’s one of the most valuable targets in this place. Silently, he closes in on her, his gun at the ready.
Mine is, too. Moving from table to table, I close the distance between us, watching as he makes his way toward Isbella. Then he spots her. She looks up to see him, raising her eyes from her wound just in time to watch the man prepare to fire.
He’s not fast enough on the draw, however.
With all the quickness I’m capable of, I take aim with my pistol and fire. There’s a bang, followed by a splash of red on the tablecloth behind him. He drops, and Isabella’s a silent witness, her eyes wide as she takes in the fact that she nearly died.
She looks at me, and I reply with a quick nod. She’s safe.
I turn my attention to the rest of the fight, prepared to assist my family.
Another burst of gunfire rings out. The rest of the masked men are falling back now, realizing they’ve bitten off more than they can chew.
The silence that follows is almost deafening, broken only by the ragged breathing of those left standing and the quiet groans of the injured.
My eyes go straight to Stephania. She’s still lying by the bar, unconscious, and my chest clenches in worry. Though I don’t love the woman, I wish her no harm.
I can see that her chest is rising and falling, so I know she is alive. I look over to where Isabella sits, still trying to staunch the blood from her arm. I’m torn, and for a moment, caught between duty and instinct. But instinct wins.
I rush over to Isabella and look her over. The sight of her blood fills me with a rage that I can barely comprehend.
I’ll kill whoever was behind this.
“Are you okay?” My gaze zeroes in on the blood trickling down her arm.
She pushes me away. “I’m fine.”
Her eyes flick to Stephania, and she shoves me again. “Worry about your fiancée,” she says as she rushes past me toward her cousin.
