I’m not alone.
Chapter 27 - Wyatt
The door to the rooftop slams against the wall hard enough to rattle the frame, and as I push through, the wind hits me, bitter and carrying the smell of fuel and metal.
The city sprawls below with glittering lights, but up here, it’s more like being in a different world entirely, blinded by the floodlights that take a moment to adjust to. But the second I do, I see the helicopter with its rippling blades, waiting to leave. Right now, it’s a constant threat and a reminder of everything I stand to lose.
Luckily, the upper floors of the hotel have been closed off for renovations, so after clearing guests from the lower floors, getting through the building was quick work. Certainly faster with the Lukov forces to bolster my own.
But with the adrenaline still pumping through me after taking out a decent number of Grimaldi men, everything comes to a screeching halt the moment I see her.
Elena’s in Orlando’s grasp, halfway to the helicopter pad, as if caught in the act. Her wrists are bound behind her back, and her skin looks paler than usual, likely from whatever sedative they gave her.
Quickly, Orlando turns and points his gun at her head, gaze sharp and wild, as if anything might set him off. Still, he keeps his arm steady.
Flanking him on either side, his sons are both armed, taking us all in at once. Of course, every other man is ready, tracking us with their weapons without hesitation.
Instinctively, everything in me goes cold and focused. They haven’t left yet, which means we have them right where we want them.
Patch and Roman’s men fan out beside me, silent and disciplined. My own crew mirrors them on the opposite side, still pushing on despite the action earlier today.
The Grimaldis are boxed in with nowhere to go. No exits. Not even the helicopter can help them now.
But aside from Elena’s release, I don’t give a damn about anything else.
Despite the obvious pressure on him, Orlando smiles, clearly feeling he has the advantage here. In a way, he does. But he’s outnumbered, and he has no idea just how far my determination will take me.
“Wyatt,” he says just loud enough to be heard over the wind. “Or whatever you’re going by these days.”
My jaw clenches tight, not interested in having any kind of conversation, regardless of how satisfied he seems about the confrontation.
“This ends tonight. Here and now,” I tell him, deliberate and slow so it all sinks in. “Let her go.”
Carlo adjusts his hold on the pistol. “You’re in no position to make demands.”
I take a step forward, feeling as Roman’s hand snaps out to grab me, just barely catching my sleeve, but I don’t look at him. Instead, my eyes never leave Elena.
She’s looking at me, too, but there’s no broken panic in her eyes. Just the sort of exhaustion that comes with holding on for as long as you can. I just wish I could reassure her somehow.
“That’s funny,” Orlando returns with a small tilt of his head, slightly bumping the pistol against Elena’s head in a way that makes my body clench. “From where I’m standing, I have all the leverage.”
“Do you?”
“Seeing as you bothered coming all the way here for her, then yes. I’d say I do.” He glances at the others, gaze shifting. “And you think bringing the Lukovs here scares me?”
“It should,” Roman cuts in, both calm and lethal. If someone didn’t know him, they might assume he’s indifferent right now, but I’ve seen how he is around Elena. He’s ready to cut Orlando to pieces if that’s what it takes.
Then, in an attempt to seem unaffected, Orlando scoffs. But the subtle grip change gives him away, letting just enough uncertainty creep in.
“For someone who operated in the dark for so long, you’re more emotional than I would’ve guessed. Too attached.”
As his gaze flicks down to Elena, renewed rage surges through me, but I force myself to sit in it, rather than acting without thinking. I have to bury it for now, even if I’d love to join Roman in slicing already.
“And what makes you so sure of that?”
He chuckles. “The very fact that you came out of hiding for her. You were perfectly content staying out of sight. You made a name for yourself that way…and now, you’ve lost your trump card. We know your name and your face, and we have your weakness.”
“I don’t need to hide my face anymore,” I mutter back, keeping my posture as poised yet relaxed as I can. “Besides, after tonight, you won’t be a problem anymore.”
