Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 85490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
First, I realize I’m not wearing my horned disguise anymore and I’ve changed into a pair of slacks and a blouse. I can’t start giving out orders, since most people won’t recognize me.
But second, and more importantly, Sunglasses pulls a compact submachine gun Uzi out from under his jacket and shoots at the ceiling.
The blasts are deafening. I stand in shock, barely ten feet from him, mouth hanging open. He’s not looking at me though—why would he, when I’m just some girl in a black cat mask with little silver whiskers and cute round ears? No, he’s staring across the room, right at my brothers.
He lowers his gun as the crowd erupts into screams and chaos.
There’s nothing I can do. There’s no way I can stop it. Sunglasses is big—enormous, really, like freakishly large—and he’s got the kind of gun that would put a dozen holes in my face before I get within touching distance of him. Simon and Davide are out in the open; Angelo’s turning toward them, his mask thrown back, a hand reaching for a weapon under his jacket.
“Die, Bianco scum,” the big man says, almost calm, actually too calm, and I open my mouth to scream a warning.
When I get tackled from behind and hit the floor hard.
Chapter 39
Marco
The room fills with screaming, panicking civilians.
Those gunshots sounded like thunder in my skull, and I can only imagine what it felt like to all these rich people. They’re scattering, some of them sobbing, others, hitting the floor and covering their heads.
I sprint across the room toward a woman standing barely ten feet away from where Adam’s standing. I hear him say, “Die, Bianco scum,” seconds before I slam into the girl from behind.
Laura grunts in surprise and pain as we hit the floor together.
I cover her with my body and crane my neck as Adam opens fire.
There are other men in sunglasses scattered around the room. They all have guns, and they’re shooting too, and for a second I think the Biancos are fucked, they’re dead, they didn’t plan this properly—
Until more men with guns pour into the room. These are in full tactical gear: flak jackets, helmets, AR-15 rifles. The noise is incredible as they return fire, and the men in sunglasses scatter to find cover. The room is a nightmare of blood and broken bodies, and so much fucking screaming.
I watch as Adam takes a bullet to the knee and buckles. He staggers, trying to get out of the way, but another bullet hits him in the chest. He roars, still shooting. Somewhere, Simon Bianco and his brothers have to be dead. They have to be. But I can’t see them anymore as Adam falls onto his side, his blood drenching the floor in waves.
“Come on,” I shout and push myself up. Laura moves with me. Her mask is knocked askew, the mask I brought for her to change into, along with the insanely thin slacks and the blouse I had balled up and shoved into my pants. It was comical, but whatever, it worked and it got her here, nearly at the door, and nearly to freedom.
“Marco,” she says as I drag her up, keeping low. “Marco!”
“I have you,” I tell her, jerking my mask off so she can see my face, then we’re running together. More shouting, more screams and gunfire. I step in Adam’s blood and so does Laura. I shove her ahead and she staggers, but she keeps going, good girl, smart girl, as I look down at my former ally, my nearly friend.
Adam’s eyes are open but he’s not moving.
Dead. Gone.
I force myself away. There’s more yelling, but the gunshots are tapering off now. I have no clue what happened to the rest of the attackers. Were they Adam’s men? Were they Dusan, Julien, and Ronan? And what about Valentina? And what about the Bianco brothers?
None of that matters. I run to the end of the hall where Laura’s waiting with the door open. She looks so fucking beautiful, but there’s no time. I grab her wrist and drag her out the door.
“My family,” she says, digging her heels in once we’re outside. “Marco, wait. My family—”
“You can’t help them,” I say and pull her against me. She sobs once, twice, and I hug her tight. “We have to go.” I step away, but she doesn’t move.
Her eyes are locked on the door and tears stream down her face. “I can’t,” she whispers. Then, louder: “I have to go back.”
“Laura.” It breaks my heart. “I can’t follow you. I don’t know what they’ll think about me after that.”
“You have to keep going.” She runs to me and kisses me. It’s a hard kiss, one that means something. It’s a promise. “Get out of here. I’ll find you, I promise.”
“Laura—”
“I love you.” She kisses me again. “I love both of you.”