Page 12 of Mafia Daddy's Christmas Bride
Terror slashes through me, and he yanks me back with one hand, his other hand producing a glint of metal.
"Let me go!" I struggle against his grip, panic rising.
The next moment, the man is wrenched away from me.
“Who sent you?” the second man demands.
The moment of relief is quickly replaced by horror when I recognize Roman Ginetti's imposing figure. His massive frame fills my vision as he grips my attacker by the throat.
I start to back away, not wanting anything to do with either of them.
“You fucking stay close,” Roman growls at me.
I shake my head. Where is Agent Blackwood? He should be here about now.
“Isabella!” Roman barks at me.
Fear rips through me, and I turn to run.
“Fuck!”
I only make it a few steps when large hands grip me, yank me back against a hard wall of man.
"Going somewhere?"
"This doesn't concern you." I struggle against Roman. "Just leave!"
“That’s not happening.” His meaty hand continues to grip my arm like a vise as he turns to look toward where the other man had been.
But he’s long gone now. Roman turns his attention back to me. “Come on.”
He tugs me along the path. Between the attack and Roman showing up, my brain has been haywire, but now it settles on one thought.
I’m dead. Roman is going to kill me.
My survival instinct takes over.
With my free arm, I swing my bag with all my strength. It connects with Roman's shoulder, barely making him flinch.
I thrash against him, kicking at his shins, scratching at any exposed skin I can reach.
"Let me go!" I scream.
Roman absorbs the hit without flinching, but something dangerous flashes in his eyes.
In one fluid motion, he pins me against a tree, one hand gripping both my wrists above my head, the other pressing lightly against my throat, not choking, just holding me in place.
"You really must want to die.” His voice drops to a deadly whisper.
The cold calculation in his eyes makes my blood run cold.
This isn't an empty threat. This is a man who has ended lives without hesitation.
I freeze, the fight draining from me.
"Your father negotiated for your life," Roman continues, his face inches from mine. "Yet here you are, running straight toward your execution."
My heart hammers so loudly I'm sure he can hear it.
