Francesca
It wasn’t until the afternoon that I ran into Wolfe at the winery.
My father was having lunch with him, Elio, Leo, and Andre on the terrace. It was a warm day, and they sat in the shade of one of the umbrellas. They seemed to have finished their entrees and were now having their coffee with a basket of freshly baked biscotti in the center of the table.
I was wearing a short-sleeved white dress with platform sandals, always dressing nicely for work because I worked with the vendors that sold our wine in stores and restaurants throughout Italy, so I had meetings in person and online pretty much every day.
And all those vendors were completely separate from my father’s work.
They had no idea that we distributed more than wine.
I wasn’t sure exactly how my father felt about Wolfe because there’d been no more meetings to discuss his character.
I took that as a good sign that he had nothing to say.
It was strange to see Wolfe sitting there, easily the biggest and tallest guy at that table, lethally handsome… and just lethal in general.
I couldn’t believe he was mine sometimes.
Every day, really.
I walked up and joined their table. “Dad, I wanted to bring this to you.” I handed him the manila folder with the paperwork inside.
Wolfe eye-fucked me right on the spot, his eyes slowly dragging over my tight white dress like he didn’t give a damn who saw.
Guess I shouldn’t have worn this today.
My father was oblivious to Wolfe’s possessive stare, and he opened the folder and checked the contents quickly.
Elio continued to smoke his cigar.
I hated cigars, but I never complained when the men smoked. I noticed Wolfe never smoked around me. I’d never seen him with a cigar in his mouth, but I had a feeling he had the same disgusting habit. He just kept it away from me because he was a gentleman in some ways.
My father finished reading the paperwork before he returned it to the envelope and handed it back. “Twenty percent—take it or leave it. And if he doesn’t accept it now, it goes up to twenty-five.”
“Alright.”
He turned to the table. “We should get going. We’re already late as it is.”
The men rose from the tables and left their dirty plates behind for the staff to handle. Wolfe should have moved to the right around the table, but he took the long way, coming the other way so his hand could graze my ass with the backs of his fingers on the way.
It was like he wanted to get shot.
He flashed me a smirk before he headed down the stairs.
My father was oblivious to the exchange. “We’re headed to Port Gela. We’ll be back in a couple hours.”
“Alright. I have a meeting in fifteen minutes.”
“You do a great job, sweetheart. Wouldn’t be able to handle all of this without you.” His hand went to the middle of my back, and he gave me a kiss on the cheek before he followed the rest of the guys.
An ice-cold splash of guilt slapped me across the face. My father never asked me questions about my personal life. I’d obviously never introduced him to anyone before. The only condition he had was that none of the men who worked for him could cross that line with me.
And Wolfe crossed that line every single night.
I wasn’t sure how I should navigate this complex situation, but Wolfe was right. We’d have to come clean at some point. I wasn’t sure if it was better to come from me, or if my father would be pissed if Wolfe didn’t come to him first like a man.
I really didn’t know.
“Our production schedule is already pretty packed,” I said as I sat in front of the computer and spoke to a new customer through a virtual meeting. “It’ll probably take at least two months before we can start to fill such a large order.”
“Two months for us to receive it?”
I automatically looked over my shoulder to the cracked window behind me when I heard the unmistakable loud crash, like a car drove straight into a building. Then the sound of men shouting down below as if something had just happened. “Um, excuse me for one—”
Then the sound of gunshots rang out.
Oh shit.
I shut the laptop before they could hear anything, wanting our criminal activities to be a secret from our regular wine customers.
I pushed out of my chair and went to the window, and I saw the steel gate to the vineyard explode and one side collapse off the hinges.
“Oh shit.” I looked over the edge of the gate and saw the line of SUVs waiting to get in and kill us all.
I ran to the desk and grabbed my phone to call Wolfe for help, but then I remembered he was with my father so I couldn’t call. I called my father instead, the person I probably should call anyway.
It rang twice before he answered. “Frankie, let me call you back—”
“We’ve been hit. They just blew the gate. There are four SUVs and gunfire.” My heart was racing so damn fast, even though my voice sounded irrationally calm. With every beat, my heart was a little closer to breaking out of my chest.
I hoped Wolfe could hear me.
My father took a beat before he answered. “Barricade yourself inside your office until we make it back. We’ve got a traitor in our midst.”
“Okay.”
“Remember where the guns are?”
“Yes.” My whole body was slick with sweat. The palpitations were about to kill me.
“Shoot. Reload. Breathe. Repeat. Remember that?”
“Yes.” My voice cracked when I spoke.
“And don’t forget your vest.”
“Okay.”
“We’re on our way back. Hold them off as long as you can. Go.”
“Okay.” I hung up, dropped the phone on the desk, and sprang into action.
I locked the double doors that led to my office, but they were made of wood so they wouldn’t hold up against gunfire.
I had a large shelving unit that held a couple picture frames and other decor.
I used all my strength to slide it across the floor to block the door.
Then I moved a shorter dresser in front of that, putting as much weight against the door as I could.
I opened the closet and pulled out all the guns.
I found the rifle with the scope used for picking off men from a distance, the AK-47 that could spray bullets at close contact, the handguns and all the magazines and the rounds.
I dumped it all on the desk, along with the knife that was packed with it.
I strapped the black vest over my white dress and secured it in place, protecting me from gunfire and knives.
I looked at the knife and immediately thought of Wolfe.
I had a mini panic attack when I stared at it.
“He’s coming…he’s coming.” Knowing he was driving like a fucking madman to get to me was the only thing that kept me calm. All I had to do was survive and evade capture until he arrived, and then he would fix everything.
I put the knife in the sheath and secured it to my upper thigh underneath my dress in case I needed it.
“Alright, focus.” I grabbed the rifle and checked that the barrel was loaded before I moved to the window.
I secured the butt of my gun against my shoulder and stared down the scope, seeing the SUVs that poured onto the property.
Our guys fired from everywhere, from behind the house and the other buildings. It was a fucking war zone.
I focused my aim on the guy in the driver’s seat, and the second he opened the door and stepped out, I fired.
It was a headshot—and he was down. “Shoot. Reload.” I opened the barrel and dropped the bullet into place before I cocked the gun. “Breathe.” I took a deep breath and steadied my gun before I redirected my aim to someone else and fired.
Headshot.
“Repeat.” I released the breath I’d been holding and did it all over again. I tried to pick off as many guys as I could to cover the men below and reduce the number who made it into the house. There was literally nowhere for me to run. I was fucking trapped.
I continued my shots until a spray of bullets hit the window, and glass shattered on the floor.
I dodged out of the way and pressed my back to the wall, watching bullets hit the dresser and the opposite wall. I breathed and waited for the gunfire to finish, and when it did, I waited a few more moments longer.
I crept closer to the edge and peered along the side of the house.
I saw a group of them run up the stairs then disappear from my view.
“Fuck, they’re in the house.” I put down the rifle and grabbed the shotgun instead. I made sure it was loaded with two bullets and the safety was off before I stood in front of the desk and waited for them to come for me.
It was no coincidence that they’d hit the vineyard when my father and his inner circle were somewhere else. They probably wanted to clear the place out and loot the guns from the warehouse.
But they also might want to take me.
I wasn’t stupid. I knew how men played their games.
“Like fucking hell they’re taking me.” I stared at the furniture that blocked the door and then heard the gunfire that sprayed it. It was so loud I thought my eardrums both popped and I’d become permanently deaf, but after a couple seconds, my hearing returned.
I moved behind the desk for cover and listened to them continue to blow the doors and the furniture, chunks of wood flying and bullet holes piercing all of it. I could see the light change through the holes as they moved around on the other side.
My hands started to shake as I gripped the shotgun. “He’s coming.”
They started to slam into the doors to break through all the compromised furniture. Bang. Bang. Bang.
I left the desk and looked out the window. Gunfire still ricocheted, and it was a twenty-foot drop to the ground. I’d probably break one or both of my legs in the fall, and then I really would be fucked.
I looked out to the road, hoping to see my father’s SUV headed this way, along with a line of cars behind him—but I saw nothing.
“Fuck.”
Then an explosion burst against the door, as if they’d used a grenade to break it down. Flames immediately erupted along with a cloud of smoke that made it hard for me to breathe.
I rose from the desk with my shotgun ready and saw the furniture being shoved aside by a man in the front.