Page 44 of The Boss's Temptation

I suddenly lurch to my feet. But my head spins and I stagger. Dominic swears and catches me. When I look around the carnage of the room, my heart stops. The whole bedroom is destroyed: blackened and ripped through by the blast. There’s a crater in the wood floor, the windows are shattered, and the doors to the balcony are blown off. Christ, the fucking bed is smoldering.

But most importantly, Katrina is gone.

I groan. I start to stagger to the balcony. But pain blares through me. I hiss and stumble. But Dominic is there again, catching me. He eases me to the floor, swearing.

“Christ, Mr. Genovese,” he mutters. “You’ve gotta stay down—”

“Where the fuck is she?!” I roar.

His jaw is tight. I can see in his eyes that he gets my fury and pain. “Unmarked white van. Best I can tell is they hit the front gates hard, came in shooting. The two in here came in with that fucking crate.” He nods through the ruined doors to the middle room. But I turn to look at the man I used as a shield, lying dead on the ground. Rest in hell, I mutter to myself.

More of my men suddenly flood into the room with guns. Dominic barks orders, calling them over.

“Mr. Genovese,” he growls. “I need you to lie down.”

“Like hell,” I snarl. “Get a crew together. Get everyone.” My jaw grinds. “Anton Korolyov just declared war. He’s getting a fucking nuke shoved up his ass.” I try and stand again, but pain cuts through me.

“Sir,” Dominic grunts. “Lie down.”

“They took my wife, Dom!” I roar. “I’m going after—”

“Micheal, look at yourself.”

I blink. I look down. Holy shit. I’m covered in blood, and I realize it’s my own.

“Shrapnel. Well, ball bearings,” Dominic mutters. He nods to his own arm, dripping with blood. “Fuckers used a claymore grenade.” He glares around the room. “Someone call a fucking doctor!” He bellows. “Now!”

“No.” I groan, but I push off the floor. I sit up, wincing. Then I get to my feet. Dominic stares at me, but he doesn’t try and stop me. I glare at him. “They took Katrina, Dom,” I hiss. “They took my wife. There is no goddamn way I’m lying here waiting for a fucking doctor. Is that understood?”

He nods. “Yes, sir.”

“If you try and stop me, I’ll take your fucking head off. Clear?”

He grins. “Perfectly. What do you need?”

“Scotch and painkillers,” I grunt. “Heavy painkillers. Then I need guns, lots of bullets, and as many men as you can get.”

Dom nods and runs off. I groan. I’m in pretty bad shape. Worse than I’m letting on to Dominic. But I’m not waiting. Not a fucking chance.

“Sir!” One of my guards runs over with a phone and hands it to me. “It’s Mr. Cave, sir.”

“Vincent—”

“Are you okay?!”

“Fine,” I lie. “But they took Katrina.”

Vincent swears violently. “I’m on my way to the airport now.”

I nod. I’m not going to dissuade him this time. We’re about to go to war. I’m going to need my top general.

“Bellamy?”

“She’s safe,” Vincent grunts. He knows I mean I’m worried about Anton coming after more of my family. “And it’s going to stay that way. She’s staying put here in Florida with some of our own people.”

“Thank you.”

“No need to. Christ, Anton,” Vincent mutters. “He wants a war; he’s going to get destroyed.”

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