Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
We had to hurry. That scream was going to bring more men in here.
She’d stabbed him quickly, and when she’d pulled the knife back, blood shot out all over her hand. The screaming man was then put on the floor by her unwounded knee that went straight to his groin.
Vitale stumbled back, stunned at the turn of events. As I suspected, he didn’t draw a gun . . . probably because he didn’t have one.
“Stay back,” she yelled, swinging the bloody knife at him that she’d just proven she was more than willing to use.
“Cut me free,” I commanded, urgent. The taut cord vibrated as she sawed through it, fraying more with each pass. It broke loose, and she tried to slice through the plastic ties that held my hands together next—
Shit!
Carlo was up on his feet.
I grabbed her arm and twisted, throwing her away from the attack, and the pain in my back was so intense it felt like it was ripping apart and my vision went black.
“Look out!” she shouted.
I put Carlo down, kneeling on the man’s windpipe until there was a horrible gurgling sound. I glared at the man pinned beneath me, then her and the knife still clutched in her hand as she pointed it at Vitale.
“Help us get out of here,” I said in English to Carlo, “and I can get you immunity.”
“What?” It came from her teeming with betrayal. It wasn’t like this offer sat well with me either. I was sure the image of her bruised legs would never fade from my memory, but this was big-picture. Revenge wouldn’t matter if we were both dead.
The doors to the office burst open and slammed into the walls on either side as two of Vitale’s men came in brandishing guns. One of them snatched Olivia up and threw her hard against the desk, a 9mm pressing her head down until her cheek was flush against the desktop.
She closed her eyes, like this was the end.
If that man pulled the trigger, I was sure we would both die from that bullet.
38
OLIVIA
I never wanted to hear Italian again, and now it poured into my ears, all around me, inescapable. Closing my eyes only exacerbated it, so I opened them and watched the other gunman drag Ethan back to the couch. He’d stopped resisting once the gun was on me.
What was he doing here? I was torn in two at the sight of him. He’d walked right into his death, and for what? Me? I was pissed and overjoyed that he’d come.
There was discussion with Carlo about Gio, and once Carlo retrieved his black rod from where I’d kicked it away, the cold, hard barrel against my temple eased up. Carlo’s heavy footsteps approached and he said something to Vitale.
“Look at me,” Ethan said in English, his face white, and seeing him like that . . . I couldn’t imagine anything worse. My stomach bottomed out. “It’s okay,” he said. “Help is coming, just hold on.”
“Help is not coming for you,” Carlo said. I remained down, bent over the desk, my bare stomach cold against the lacquered wood as he stood to the side of me. “Tell us what you’ve done to Giovanni.”
“I didn’t do anything to him,” I said.
“Wait, Jesus. Per favore,” Ethan pleaded.
Carlo’s hand closed around the links of my metal handcuffs and he moved to the far end of the desk, stretching my arms out, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up when the rod was passed to Vitale like a scepter. Carlo probably couldn’t use the rod on me anymore because he clutched a bloody hand to where I’d stabbed his arm.
The other men had their guns aimed at Ethan and their attention on their boss, awaiting his command.
Vitale teased me. Oh, so slowly, he began dragging the thin pole over the skin of my forearms. It rose behind his head, then came thundering down with a magnificent crash. It landed against the desk, just shy of my arms, shaking the desktop, and it almost rattled me apart.
“Tell us what you did to Giovanni.”
“I drugged him,” Ethan said.
Everyone turned to stare at the intense man who was bleeding all over the couch.
Couldn’t he see that his lie was pointless? He’d been tied up, and I’d been the one to bring Gio the wine. The look in Vitale’s eye said he didn’t care who’d done it. Both of us were going to suffer and then die.
He reared back with the rod. An elegant Italian man in a perfectly tailored suit, about to destroy me. He was serious now. He was going to hit me. Oh God, oh God, oh God—
“No!” Ethan’s voice was filled with panicked agony.
The impact sounded different and was joined with a horrifying crunch of bone, and it took a lifetime for my body to register the pain. I blinked at least once in disbelief before it thundered into my brain and overtook me.