My eyes find Shelby’s across the smoke-filled space.He hasn’t moved since he spotted me.He’s raised his pistol, but his finger isn’t on the trigger.A raging battle is playing out behind those blue eyes.The tactical calculation is clashing with desperate fear.
This is his nightmare realized.
This is Syria all over again.Someone he cares about is trapped, and he’s frozen.He is unable to act; his mind goes into overdrive, feeding him catastrophic scenarios.He’s terrified his actions might make things worse, while inaction is the only real threat.
I won’t let him freeze.I won’t let my father use Shelby’s love for me as a weapon against him.
“Shelby.”My voice comes out strong, despite my own terror.“Shoot him.”
Giovanni laughs.“She’s bluffing.”
“I’m not.”I hold Shelby’s gaze, willing him to understand.“This isn’t just about me.You know what he’s done.The victims.The women.The children.”My voice cracks on the last word.
I take a deep breath, and I push through.I direct my next words to my father, but they are meant for Shelby.He needs to know the depths of my father’s connections to Vdovotvorets.“Lucia Rossi.Remember her now, Father?She was twelve years old when you sold her to the Widowmaker.”
Giovanni’s grip falters for just a moment.“Serena?—”
“Shoot him,” I repeat.“Shoot through me if you have to.I don’t care if I die.But you cannot let him escape.You cannot let him keep trading in human lives.Think of the kids.Think of all the children he’ll sell if he walks out of here.”
“I won’t shoot you.”Shelby’s voice is raw.Broken.“I can’t.”
“Then you’re letting him win.”Tears burn my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall.“Every child he traffics after today, that’s on us.Every woman sold into slavery because we let him walk away.Is my life worth more than theirs?”
“Yes.”The word tears out of him like it’s being ripped from his chest.“To me, yes.Your life is worth everything.”
The confession hangs in the air between us.
Giovanni shifts behind me, using my moment of shock to edge toward the back of the bay.Cesare follows like the coward he is, staying in my father’s shadow, using both of us as shelter.
“How touching,” Giovanni sneers.“Young love.So naive.So predictable and easily exploited.I knew he wouldn’t take the shot.”He takes another step backward, dragging me with him.“Here’s what’s going to happen.We’re going to walk to that stairwell, climb to the roof, and we’re going to fly away.If anyone tries to stop us, Serena dies.If anyone follows us, she dies.Am I making myself clear?”
“Crystal.”Dave’s voice is cold.“But know this.The Syndicate has a long memory and longer reach.You won’t be able to hide forever.”
My father’s almost to the service stairwell now.And Shelby still hasn’t moved, his finger frozen beside the trigger.
Joe steps forward from the tactical line, his face twisted with anguish.“Father, stop.This is insane.Let her go.”
Giovanni’s attention shifts to his son for just a nanosecond.
It’s enough.
Tommy fires.
The shot doesn’t hit my father, but the door frame beside his head, showering him with splinters.Giovanni flinches, his grip on me loosening.
I don’t hesitate.
I slam my elbow backward into his ribs with every ounce of strength I have left.His arm releases me.I drop to the ground and roll.
“Serena!”Shelby’s voice cuts through the chaos.
I’m already scrambling toward him on hands and knees, my body screaming in protest.Behind me, my father shouts orders, exchanging fire with the Syndicate men.The thunder of boots on the metal steps is as loud as the roar of muzzles spitting bullets.Wails of pain erupt when a projectile hits its target.
Then Shelby’s arms are around me, silencing the chaos around us.
He hauls me against his chest, shielding me with his body as he backs toward the cover of a concrete pillar.His heart pounds against my cheek, and I notice I’m shaking.Or maybe he is.Maybe we both are.
“I’ve got you,” he breathes into my hair, his relief ringing as true as mine.“I’ve got you.You’re safe.”
