Page 96 of The Don's Forbidden Obsession

Pain surged through me as I was thrashed violently within the confines of the car. Broken glass bit into my skin. My head thundered against the walls of the vehicle.

And when the world finally came to a halt as my car skidded to a twisted and battered rest, the scent of smoke and burning rubber burned my nostrils.

Every inch of my body screamed in agony as I struggled to breathe, the seatbelt cutting into me.

Pain radiated from every point of impact. But I couldn’t stop.

I had to get to her.

Through gritted teeth, I mustered the strength to push open the crumpled door.

Ragged breaths clutched at my chest as I emerged from the wreckage.

The sight before me was terrifying as I saw the van crumpled against a concrete wall.

“Annabelle!” I screamed, adrenaline pumping and allowing me to race toward the scene.

The deafening sounds of gunshots shattered the eerie quiet, and my knees buckled as I watched that bastard crawl through a shattered window, glass littered at his feet.

I crawled behind my car, reaching for my gun.

The street was now a battlefield.

I groaned and grabbed at my side as I pulled my weapon from its holster.

Bullets whizzed past me, rattling against the metal of my vehicle as I struggled to get behind it.

I crouched behind the open door of my car, using it as a shield as I returned fire. Every fiber of my being screamed for her safety.

She could handle her shit, but it didn’t mean I wasn’t worried.

My heart pounded with fear.

I hope she made it out alive.

I knew I’d have to fight tooth and nail to find out with the heavy gunfire blasting toward my car. Every bullet clashed and rattled against the metal frame, and I took a deep, calming breath.

I had to focus.

As the fight raged, my mind locked onto one thing.

Getting her the hell out of there.

Alive.

Safe.

With every pull of the trigger and step I took, I only had that in mind.

I moved with a calculated grace as I shimmied toward another car, abandoned when the shooting started, if I had to guess.

“Fuck you!” Annabelle screeched, and before I knew it, I caught a glimpse of her darting between cover, her eyes filled with a fierce determination that mirrored my own.

She had a gun.

She was shooting it.

But it wasn’t at the captain.

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