Page 56 of The Mafia’s Fiancee

“We’ve been waiting a long fucking time for you to come here.” He resisted my shoves and ignored my protests. I couldn’t scream or yell. Bringing more alarm would make it worse. Others would come, but I feared that I couldn’t escape this man.

“He’ll pass you around, bitch. I can’t wait to break in this pussy.” He cupped me roughly, his fingers hard and gross over my shorts. I squeezed my legs together to thwart him, but he was stronger. He’d win. Panic kicked in.

“You hear me? I’ll fuck this up.” He grabbed again, squeezing between my legs to the point of causing pain.

“No.” I growled, using both hands to push him back. “No, you won’t.” Red rage filled me at the threat he suggested, and before I could consider how futile it was, I punched at him and fought the best I could. Someday, I’d ask Luke to teach me better moves of self-defense. If I were ever caught in this position again, I could have the means to protect myself.

The idea of Luke comforted me, and keeping the image of his face in my mind, thinking of how good it felt to be held by him, fueled me to hit this Marchese soldier with all my might. A fortunate strike against his neck helped. He backed up a bit, coughing at the impact near his throat.

“I’m going to break you in, bitch.”

I sneered, blocking his reach. “My fiancé as already broken me in.” It filled me with pride that I could say Luke was my first. He had that honor. He alone claimed my virginity.

“Antonio hasn’t—”

“My real fiancé. The man I slept with. The man I will marry.” Spewing these truths at him, I enraged him further, but I didn’t care. It was the truth and deserved to be used as a weapon against him.

His face got redder as his fury scaled higher. Once he gripped my neck, trying to choke me, I worried that I’d pushed him too far.

“Here,” Nina said.

My vision grew darker. My lungs burned, desperate for air. A squeezing confinement crushed me inside out as he tried to strangle me, still forcing his hand at my shorts to get beneath them or rip them off.

I’d forgotten about Nina. I was so focused on getting this man away from me that I’d fallen into tunnel vision resisting him.

She staggered toward me, slumping against the wall. Her arm brushed against mine, and I grabbed the gun in her hand before it fell. Her muscle strength was weak, but this guard had ignored her when she dropped to a chair and caught her breath. He’d dismissed her as a non-threat. In that time, she must have crawled on the floor to get the gun and bring it to me.

I didn’t wait. I lifted it, pointing it at the man and firing it between his legs.

He ceased squeezing my neck. His eyes opened wide with alarm then slid shut in a grimace of pain.

“Fuck off,” I muttered around gasps.

One push had him parting from me. I sidestepped, loathing him even more for the pain where he’d cupped me so roughly. My skin stung, but I knew he’d never have the chance to touch me again. Just to make sure, I shot him in the chest.

I didn’t wait for him to die. Those gunshots made me flinch, so loud and near, and others would come to investigate.

“Let’s—” I wheezed in another deep breath, struggling to inhale well with how forcefully he’d held my neck. “Let’s go,” I told Nina.

Once more helping her to walk, we hurried outside.

All the commotion was focused on another end of the property, and I was able to slip away. The spot Justin had been covering in his patrol must not have been filled yet, because no other Marchese soldier stopped me on my way out.

It seemed too easy. The entire route back to the car I’d driven here, I held my breath and remained on high alert, tense and waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Too easy.

I could hardly believe we had gotten away. That Justin had gotten Krista away too.

As soon as I helped Nina into the car and then got in myself, I started the engine and gulped in a lungful of air. Relief should’ve hit me, but I couldn’t control the racing of my heart.

I was stressed, anxious, and a general ball of emotions.

I’d killed a man. It was in self-defense, but I’d still taken his life. Me—I was now a killer, and that was a lot to accept.

Hurrying us away, I checked the mirrors and tried to give my brain a chance to settle from the action. We’d gotten away. Yet as I sped down the road leading away from the Marchese compound, I couldn’t escape this nauseating sensation. I was lightheaded, like I’d overexerted myself.

I wanted to think it was nothing more than belated remorse for taking a life, but when I considered that, I recognized that I wasn’t guilty. I didn’t feel bad about that. That man had to die, and his death was nothing more than a consequence of him being a bad man, a wicked, sinister soul who tried to violate me and control me.