BEN
“How the hell did you grow up in that house and not want to murder your father in cold blood every day?” I ask, as I slide in the back seat beside Sierra.
“Who says I didn’t?” She rubs circles on the back of my hand, and it’s unbelievably soothing. “Most days it was a toss-up between who I hated more. My father or Saskia. You didn’t honestly think she plucked her attitude from thin air?”
Leo glides the car out onto the road, and the second SUV trails close behind. “Should I take the back roads?” he asks, glancing at me through the mirror.
I shake my head. “Stick to the main roads. If anyone targets us, they will be more reluctant to attack with civilians nearby.” I drill him with a look, and he understands I’m saying this purely for Sierra’s benefit. If the Russians want to attack us, they won’t give a flying fuck which road we are on or how many civilians are nearby. Unlike us, they don’t care about innocent bystanders and they must think they are above RICO laws.
“We shouldn’t have come,” Sierra says, rubbing her temples. “I hate I let her get to me.”
“Your sister has serious mental issues,” Leo says, and he’s not joking.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” Sierra replies, as we round the bend.
“I don’t understand how your father favors her so much. She’s the most troublesome in the family,” I say.
“He doesn’t see it like that. He can’t see any fault in her. He loves that she works for the family business, and she sucks up to him any chance she gets.”
“Yet she embarrasses him in public,” Alessandro says, glancing over his shoulder from the passenger seat.
“That’s a recent development,” Sierra says, looking thoughtful. “She never used to be like that.”
“Who’d have daughters?” Leo quips. “They are nothing but trouble. You’re lucky you have a son.” He waggles his brows at me through the mirror.
A smirk tilts my lips as I sit back and let Sierra handle it.
“I think there must be something wrong with my hearing,” she says, sitting up straighter. “Because I could not have heard that misogynistic comment coming from Leo, of all people. Shocker right there.”
Leo grins, and I know he said that on purpose to get a rise out of her. It’s his way of trying to distract her and lighten the mood.
“Well, I—”
A loud bang cuts him off mid-sentence, and I turn around in time to see the vehicle behind us careen off the road before rolling over a few times. Smoke billows from the SUV as it screeches to a halt, upside down.
Fuck.
Leo puts the pedal to the metal as Alessandro pulls a gun out from under the passenger seat.
“Baby, get down.” I shove Sierra to the floor, lifting the seat to get at our supplies. We didn’t come unprepared. We knew there was a possibility the Russians would come after us today.
“Is it the Russians?” she asks.
“I assume so,” I say in a calm voice as I distribute Kevlar vests. “Put that on, and then cover yourself with this blanket, and stay down until I tell you it’s safe to get up.” I hand the red-and-blue-plaid blanket to Sierra.
“Take the next left,” I instruct Leo. The only advantage we have is my knowledge of the area. We are very close to where I grew up, and if we can’t shake them off, I know a few places we can hide.
I help Sierra put her vest on as Leo takes the next left, heading away from the busy main road up ahead. Sierra screams as a succession of loud thumps hits the rear window. “It’s okay,” I assure her. “It’s bulletproof glass.” Leo and I exchange wary expressions through the mirror as Alessandro leans out the side window, firing back.
Yes, this is an armored car, but it’s not my usual car, which has the thickest bulletproof glass that was built specifically to stop all bullets. Most non-custom armored vehicles are less secure, so I cannot say with absolute certainty that they can’t breach the glass. However, panicking my fiancée at a time when I need her to maintain a cool head won’t help. I press a hard kiss to her lips, clutching the back of Alessandro’s seat to steady myself as Leo zigzags across the road. “Trust me. We will keep you safe.”
She nods, working hard to keep her terror at bay.
“No matter what you hear, just stay under the blanket until one of us gives you the all-clear,” I tell her.
“I will.” She reaches out, taking my wrist. “Be careful.”
“Don’t worry about us. We know how to handle ourselves.” It’s a false assurance because she’s just witnessed my four soldiers getting tossed around in their car back there. I don’t know if any of them survived, but I can’t worry about my men now. Protecting Sierra and getting us the fuck out of Chicago is my sole priority.
