Page 46 of Forbidden Mobster's Daughter

“You’re bluffing,” Francesco says. “You want the woman but have her father dead? That’s dark, even for me.”

“Her father killed mine,” I say coolly. “Do with him what you will.” I listen to my words and am no longer sure I mean them. At one point, I dreamed of killing Antonio with my bare hands. Then that idea became impossible, for pragmatic reasons. Now, my gaze scans the room.

Antonio is looking at me with a soft, pleading expression.

I don’t want him to die. Not because he deserves to live, but because he’s Sienna’s father. She’s been through enough without having to witness her father dying in front of her. I want a full life of happiness with her—no more unnecessary trauma.

My occupation in the last ten years has prepared me for this moment.

I take a step back, coaxing her to do the same behind me, and continue pointing my gun at Francesco. “Do we have a deal?” I ask, distracting him.

Before he answers, within a fraction of a second, I shift my aim to the security guy holding Antonio hostage. I shoot at him, the man falls, and Antonio runs away from him.

Then I shoot Francesco’s shoulder, and he falls one more time.

“Let’s get out,” I tell Sienna, cocking my head toward the balcony.

Not the best way out, but I need to exit before people notice all this commotion.

“Matteo,” she calls, and I look at the door.

Two other security guards enter with guns drawn. I shoot both of them, but the taller one returns fire before hitting the floor. The bullet hits my shoulder, and a jolt of pain works through me.

“Are you okay?” she whispers behind me.

“Yes,” I hiss, pushing through the pain. “If more people come in, I want you to make a run for it. Don’t wait. My car is parked a couple of houses down. Get the fob from my pocket and run. My mom will call you and tell you where to go.”

“No,” she says. “I’m not leaving without you.”

Francesco gets up and lunges at me. We tussle on the floor, and when he shoves his fingers into my bleeding wound, I groan. I hear another shot, and he falls on top of me. When I look over his shoulders, I see Sienna. Holding a gun.

“I told you you’re not leaving without me,” she says.

31

Sienna

“C’mon…we need to get you up,” I say.

My father groans but refuses my hand in a typical male-pride fashion and tosses Francesco’s body to the side.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “You two need to get out of here.”

“That’s the idea,” Matteo says, touching his shoulder. I remove his jacket and untuck his shirt, then rip off a good chunk and apply the bunched fabric to his wound. “I’m fine,” he says.

My dad fishes out his phone and texts.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“I asked Vito to come up before Francesco’s parents do.” My father touches Francesco, looking for his pulse. “Okay, good, he’s alive.”

Alive? Resentment stabs at me. Is that it? Even after this oaf almost assaulted me, my father is worried about how this will look for him.

“Not for long,” Matteo says, curling his fingers into a ball. His shoulder must hurt because he groans, frowning.

My father lifts his hand in a silent plea for us to listen. “I will take care of things. You two leave. Is it safe to go through the balcony?” He glances at Matteo.

“I’ll make it safe, yes.”

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