Antony, Scarletta’s lackey, is now grinning at me with a sinister twist to his mouth, realizing I’m awake. He saunters over, crouches, and reaches to tighten my bonds, making me wince. His hand intentionally skims my breast, and I cringe, attempting to get as far away from him as possible.
“Hey, if you play nice with me, maybe you can walk away,” he taunts, leaning in, giving a long lick to my neck. I gag because his breath reeks, and the man put his tongue on me. “But I admit, I kinda like it when they fight. Makes it more of a challenge when I finally fuck ’em.” Patting my head, he laughs darkly and walks away.
Closing my eyes, all I can do is pray Dante gets here in time.
Their argument grows louder, and the three men aren’t even attempting to be quiet anymore, so I catch more bits of their conversation.
“…Vescari’s men are closing in...”
“You promised no heat on us…”
“She’s just a girl, Silas, disposable …”
Over their bickering, I can hear faint noises, what sounds like footsteps followed by an eerie silence. The men suddenly go still, hearing them as well.
Then they become heavier. They are footsteps. A lot of them.
All of us can just make out dark shadows moving around from the space at the bottom of the door.
Then, the old metal handle rattles. It’s locked.
There’s a long, heavy pause, which seems to last forever, and more silence. The three men in the room with me look at each other, panicking, knowing that door is the only way out.
With a loud boom that stings my eardrums, the world suddenly blows apart, and the wooden door crashes to the floor in pieces. Blown off its hinges.
A team of men in black tactical gear and automatic weapons storms the basement room with a cloud of dust surrounding them in dramatic fashion. They areled by Luca, Dante’s friend and underboss, and Dante himself.
My breath catches in a sob of relief. He’s pure wrath dressed in all black, his dark eyes burning and his weapon leveled at the two Scarletta men along with Silas.
He looks like a romantic fiction dark angel here to save me, just as I knew he would.
“You fucking took what’s mine, Scarletta,” he growls in his low, rough voice, more menacing than if he’d screamed, “and now, you will die for it.”
The room goes still as reality settles in for the three men. Scarletta is shaking as if he wants to cry, and definitely not like the mafia boss he wants to portray. He thought he could rule the Chicago underworld like Dante? What a joke. The man looks like a scared child.
Everyone is distracted as Uncle Silas convulses in the corner, breaking the silence, coughing violently. His hand flies to hold his gut as if in pain, and blood spews from his lips. He buckles over and goes to his knees, staring at me with comprehension flickering in his failing eyes.
Raising one shaking finger, he points accusingly at me, croaking out, “You... you did this … in the coffee… poison.”
His words make Scarletta’s jaw drop open in shock, and I can hear as Luca swears in disbelief. “Shit…”
Dante’s gaze locks on me. Realization has dawned on all of them. By now, everyone in the room knows what I’ve done, what I’m capable of doing.
Uncle Silas crumples to the floor, convulsing violently, and taking a shuddering last breath. He’s dead.
Taking advantage of the distraction, Scarletta lunges with a knife he’s taken off the table in the room, but Dante’s faster.
A series of shots rings out. Both Antony and Scarletta collapse on the cold concrete floor, their chests blooming with blood, eyes staring at me, lifeless and unmoving.
Luca and Dante lower their weapons at the same time. Dante turns to look at me, something dark and hungry in his gaze.
Hands and feet still bound, I only lift my chin, and my voice trembles as I shrug, “I decided to save myself.”
Chapter Twenty
Dante
Thecrackofthegunfire still echoes as Scarletta and Antony’s blood pools on the concrete.
