Chapter Thirty, Rescue
The car rolled to a stop just down the road from the house my men were supposed to be inside.
I sat stiffly in the back seat, fingers tapping a restless rhythm on the seat beside me.
Silver scanned the scene out of the window.
Rowan lounged beside her, like we were out for a casual drive, humming under his breath and tapping his fingers on the door.
I wanted to smack him for being so calm.
The house that housed my boys was utterly unremarkable—cookie-cutter suburban with yellow siding, a perfectly manicured lawn, and a white picket fence. It would’ve looked like a family home if not for the chaotic cluster of luxury cars and black SUVs crammed around the driveway.
And the bodies. Lots and lots of bodies.
Silver cursed quietly. “We’ve got company.”
“Shit,” I muttered, leaning forward to get a better look.
My stomach churned as the car doors opened. Within seconds, the driveway was full of men, some holding rifles, others standing around smoking, their casual stance doing little to hide the menace they radiated.
It was bad enough. But then I saw him.
A tall man with slicked-back gray hair emerged from one of the sleek black sedans. His pinstripe suit was sharp; his movements commanding. My chest tightened, and my fists clenched until my knuckles went white.
“Fuck,” I ground out. “That’s Giorgio De Luca.”
Rowan peered past me. “Giovanni’s charming father?”
“Yes.” My voice was clipped, but the single word carried the weight of all my rage.
“Easy, Lucky,” Rowan drawled, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Maybe don’t pick the crime lord as your first kill. He might be a little too dangerous.”
I whipped around, glaring daggers at him. “I can be just as dangerous. All I have to do is shoot the prick.” I waved my gun.
His smirk faded. “Fair point. Go on and shoot him then. Aim for his chest; it’s easier to hit than his head.”
I turned back toward the house, jaw tight and eyes narrowed. Gio’s father stood in the center of the chaos, barking orders with the same self-assured arrogance that made my hands clench.
“You are not killing him, Heather. He’d kill you before you even aimed, and I am not letting that happen.
” Silver’s voice cut through my staring as she reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a folded map, spreading it over her lap.
“We’re not storming in like idiots. We sneak in, grab Atlas and Gio, and get the hell out. Got it?”
I nodded reluctantly, though the thought of sneaking around when Giorgio was right there made my blood boil.
Lola, I thought to myself. I’m going to murder someone today. I know as my therapist you should tell me not to. But as my friend I think you’ll agree. Giorgio isn’t a person. He’s a monster. And sometimes monsters need to die.
Lola didn’t reply to me, and I took that as her agreement.
The fact I swore I could hear Missy cheering in the back of my mind only added to my motivation.
Silver pointed to the side of the house.
“There’s a side entrance here through a window, likely less guarded.
We can come from upstairs and hopefully find the guys.
We just need to wait for Giorgio’s men to get out of our way.
” She glanced at Mali. “Leave the dog for now. She can’t climb, and I don’t want to risk her getting shot. ”
A sudden burst of gunfire hurried along our planning. My heart leaped into my throat as I whipped my head toward the house. Shouting erupted from inside, muffled but unmistakable. Figures darted past the open windows.
“Shit,” Silver hissed, her eyes narrowing as she grabbed her gun. “Let’s go.”
Without waiting for an answer, she opened her door and stepped out. I scrambled to follow, adrenaline surging through my veins as I tightened my borrowed mask on my face. Rowan moved more slowly, his usual swagger intact even as he checked his weapons.
As we approached the house, the front door slammed open. A figure strode out, anger marring her pretty face. A half dozen gangsters surrounded her, and I expected nothing but her death.
But she didn’t die. Not even a little. She just cut through the gangsters with a terrifying ferocity that stopped me in my tracks, even if I hurried to look away from all the blood.
“Danika!” Silver called the second the gangsters were dead.
Danika froze, her head snapping toward us when I looked over.
For a moment, she stood there, staring back at the house with a look of pure fury as she yanked some guns out of an SUV.
Her expression shifted from anger to surprise, then settled into something unreadable.
She lowered the rifle in her hands; her gaze locking onto Silver as if she were trying to decide whether to shoot her or laugh.
“Silver,” she said flatly, her tone devoid of warmth. “Didn’t expect to see you here yet. But I shouldn’t be surprised.”
“Likewise,” Silver replied coolly, stepping closer. “What the hell’s going on?”
Danika shrugged, her posture casual despite the tension radiating from her. “Giorgio showed up early, ruined my fun. Now I’m cleaning up.”
“Fun?!” I snapped, stepping forward. “You kidnapped two people!”
She raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a smirk.
“Calm down, Blue. I was never going to kill them. If I wanted you dead, I wouldn’t have let you have your hot girl summer.
” She winked at me. “I got to watch you sunbathing in those tiny little bikinis, and those two losers got to breathe a little longer without knowing they were in danger. I was being nice.” Her gaze shifted to Silver.
“I was going to let them go once I got bored with leaving them hanging, but now things are… complicated. Giorgio found out I double-crossed him. Or he came here to do the same to me. Not entirely sure.”
“Complicated?” I echoed, my voice trembling with anger. “You call this complicated? There are a bunch of men with guns, and you’re standing here like this is normal.”
“It is normal,” Danika said, her smirk growing. “You’re so cute when you yell. I should have kept you in my dungeon longer. We could have had so much fun.”
I took another step forward, my fists clenched at her clear disregard of my anger. And the fact I was confused as shit about being in her dungeon. “Where are they?”
Danika’s eyes darkened, her expression hardening. “Upstairs. They were alive when I left them. They’re probably braiding each other’s hair like little girls or sucking dick.”
My eyes narrowed to slits. “That’s a big presumption to make just because they’re into each other.”
She snorted. “I’m not being insulting, sweetheart. I like women and men, and it was nothing like that.” She winked at me again. “I was just implying they were weak. Pathetic. Scrawny little cretins without brains.”
Silver stepped between us, her hand resting lightly on my arm. “Focus,” she whispered. “We get them out, then deal with everything else. Let’s go.”
I nodded stiffly, my anger barely contained. As much as I wanted to keep arguing, I knew she was right. We didn’t have time for this.
Danika sighed, rolling her shoulders as if the weight of the world was sitting there. “Follow me,” she said, her tone exasperated as I pulled out Atlas’s knife from my vest. “And try not to get yourself killed, Blue. It would be such a waste.”
We followed her toward the house, my chest tightening with every step as she took us to the same entrance Silver had planned, quickly climbing up and ordering us to do the same. Rowan went first, and Silver waited for me to go.
The trellis groaned softly beneath me as I climbed, my fingers gripping the cold, ivy-covered metal while Atlas’s knife pressed reassuringly against my palm.
My heart thundered in my chest, a relentless drumbeat of adrenaline that made my hands tremble.
Above me, Rowan had already reached the window, his lean frame disappearing inside with the grace of a predator slipping into shadows.
Below, Danika’s impatient mutter drifted up, sharp and cold.
The wood creaked under my weight, a sound far too loud for my liking, and I prayed it wouldn’t give out before I reached the top. My foot slipped once, and a bolt of panic shot through me, but I caught myself, gripping tighter until my knuckles ached.
Silver’s movements below were unnervingly quiet. She climbed like a ghost, her presence more a shadow than a person. She even managed to hold a gun in her hand and keep her eyes on the perimeter. I had no clue how.
As I reached the window, Rowan leaned down, his hand clasping mine in a firm grip. With a soft grunt, he pulled me up and over the ledge. “Up you come, Lucky,” he muttered as he helped me into the messy, small office room.
Silver slipped in behind me, her boots landing silently on the floor. Her dark eyes swept the room, taking in every corner with a coldness that made my stomach knot. She moved with the kind of control that came from years of knowing survival was earned, not given. Just like Atlas did.
Just like I wished I could. It was scary hot.
“Where are they?” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the pounding in my ears.
The sharp yell of a man’s voice shattered the quiet, followed by the unmistakable sound of fists meeting flesh.
“They’re downstairs.” Silver was already moving toward the door, her gun drawn, and I scrambled to keep up.
The hallway was narrow and dimly lit, the floor creaking softly under our weight. Shadows flickered against the walls as we moved, the faint sound of fighting growing louder with every step.
At the bottom of the stairs, light spilled from an open door, illuminating a horrid sight that stole the breath from my lungs.
Chaos. Chaos and my men.
Atlas and Gio were in the thick of it, brutal as they fought a good dozen men. Not that I saw much of it. What with the blood.
I’d barely taken a glance before Rowan slammed his hand over my eyes. “Deep breaths, Lucky. Pretend there’s no blood here.” He ordered, and I listened without complaint.
Or at least, I did for a moment. Until Rowan was suddenly yanked away from me, and his hand slipped free. I had no choice but to stare at the ceiling as my brother put two bullets into the gangster beside him and ordered me to run.
Rowan dove into the fray of the fight without hesitation, his fists swinging with a ferocity that bordered on savage delight.
Danika was right beside him, her blade flashing in the dim light as she cut down anyone in her path.
Silver moved like a shadow, her gun firing twice in rapid succession, each shot finding its mark with ruthless efficiency.
And I froze at the edge of the room, my breath hitching as the scene unfolded.
The air was thick with the scent of blood and gunpowder, the sound of grunts and cries reverberating around me.
My fingers tightened around Atlas’s knife, but I couldn’t make my feet move.
I couldn’t bring myself to look and risk seeing the blood and doing nothing more than becoming a fucking nuisance.
But then one of Giorgio’s men spotted me.
A cruel grin spread across his face as he lunged at me. My body moved on the instinct that my men had been drilling into me these last few months, ducking under his swing as adrenaline surged through me.
The knife slipped from my grip, almost clattering to the floor. But I managed to grab it at the last second before I bolted toward the kitchen, the man’s heavy footsteps pounding behind me.
My brain raced with ideas as I desperately tried to keep my focus on the kitchen, and not the rest of the bloodstained room behind me. But with the gangster quickly approaching, I had no choice but to try something random.
Something entirely unexpected.
The fridge door became my weapon, slamming into his face with a dull thud.
“Fuck,” he spat, reeling back. His hand shot out, grabbing my wrist, and I yelped, twisting in his grip and dropping Atlas’ knife.
My free hand closed around a coffee mug on the counter, and I flung it at him with all the strength I could muster.
The mug shattered, hot coffee splashing across his face, and he screamed, stumbling back.
My chest heaved as I grabbed the knife again, raising it with trembling hands as I forgot entirely about my gun.
But before I could strike, a familiar voice stopped me cold.
“Malyshka. Don’t get your pretty hands bloody for a thing like that.”
Relief flooded me as a hand grabbed the back of my neck, pulling me softly towards their body.
“Atlas,” I breathed, my grip on the knife loosening as he carefully took it from me.
“You did so well. Exactly what I wanted you to do with something like this,” he murmured, his tone affectionate despite the madness around us. And the fact he quickly put a bullet into the gangster I’d attacked, after he ordered me to close my eyes and complimented me for wearing his mask.
I laughed shakily, tears prickling as I turned around, eyes shut tight. “I was about to murder him so badly,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “Did you see me? I was doing a Die Hard and rescuing you.”
My mask was pulled off, and a warm mouth kissed me. For a single moment, everything else faded. Then Atlas pulled back, and I carefully opened my eyes, focusing only on him.
“Thank you for the rescue.” He grinned hard enough to make my heart race. “Shall we rescue Gio too? I think he needs it.”