Page 92 of Twisted Embrace

Now I knew.

He’d suspected that one day I might be forced to face my real identity.

So I decided to make my father proud.

Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!

The four rounds were fired off without hesitation.

And I hit my mark. Both of them.

Anthony wheezed, managing to lift his head. There was no time to waste, no gloating over the fresh kills. I had to get us the fuck out of here before other bad guys tracked us down.

“What did…” he tried to say.

“Anthony, for once you need to listen to me. I don’t think we have much time. I’m not leaving you here and I sure as hell don’t know what we’re up against. I need to get you into the vehicle. Can you do it?”

He nodded, trying to glance around him, his expression one of shock.

Somehow, I had a feeling that had to do with what I was capable of. And he’d thought I was just a pretty face. I struggled to get him to his feet, the rush of adrenaline going strong. When Lucia crawled out, I was grateful although I wanted to kick her butt.

“Be careful,” I hissed.

“Girl. We’re in this together.” She wrapped her arm around his waist and we managed to get him into the back.

As I jumped into the driver’s seat, only then did I realize I was still wearing a wedding dress.

Only the pristine white silk was now covered in blood.

* * *

Enzo

The caravan was rolling, our SUV directly in the middle. There’d been no incidents at the airport, no sign of any trouble. Romano had agreed to the meeting location, almost eager to have a sit down with us. He was bringing his son as well, which likely meant he’d finally made the decision to turn over his empire once and for all.

Maybe that was good for the entire situation.

If we were wrong about Romano’s involvement, then this could strengthen our ties. Or the entire situation could blow up in our faces.

With only ten miles to go, the tension was rising, enough so I remained on the edge of my seat. I’d insisted on remaining up front, my weapon ready in case of any sign of trouble.

When I heard the buzz of my phone indicating a message, I prayed for Misha’s sake that he was returning my call.

Seeing Joy’s number, I sucked in my breath.

Then D’Artagnan’s phone chimed as well. “Lucia called,” he growled.

“So did Joy.” I immediately dialed her number then heard Dar’s phone ringing again. As soon as her voice came on the phone from the message she’d left, I was also able to hear sounds of gunfire coming from whoever was calling.

In the next few seconds as I tried to listen to what Joy was saying, I twisted my head, catching a reflection out of the corner of my eye.

The moment was in complete, damning slow motion; the fact every sound suddenly seemed muted, garbled as if we’d just driven into a vacuum forced my instincts to rise to the surface.

I’d caught few words Joy had said given the earlier noise, a man screaming from the other end of Dar’s phone, but one word had been enough.

Ambush.

That’s exactly what was happening. The lead SUV was hit with an explosive, the other vehicle in front of us barely avoiding crashing into the fiery carnage.

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