CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO #2
I took another step back when my phone rang. Stefano’s name flashed on the screen, relief washing through me at the sight of it.
“Hello,” I answered, keeping my voice low despite the adrenaline pumping through my veins.
“I’m on my way to you,” Stefano said. “I got Terzo’s message. We’re headed that way.”
“What about the spot?” I whispered, glancing at Terzo’s back.
“We’ll head there if you’ve left Tower D by the time we arrive,” he told me.
“Babe, just go to the spot. We’re heading there now. We’ll meet up and discuss the next plan…”
“What spot?” Jonathan’s nosey ass called out as soon as Eve exited her office, holding her purse.
Terzo shoved Jonathan away. “Get back to work, Mr. Walthall,” he said, voice laced with warning. “This is family business.”
“I’m on the way, Sienna,” Stefano said in my ear. “Hang up so you can focus.”
I hung up and slid my phone back into my purse, my eyes fixed on Jonathan, who was watching us all with an interest that went beyond normal nosiness. Something cold slithered down my spine, my instinct warning me that something wasn’t right about his attention.
Jonathan laughed. “Family business? Well, Mr. Cattaneo isn’t family. Right?” he asked, gesturing toward Rome.
“We don’t have time for this,” Secretary Yang said.
“Let’s go. Lead the way, Secretary Yang,” Terzo told us, staying back with his arms folded over his chest, glaring at Jonathan.
I followed Secretary Yang and Eve, headed down the hallway that led to the back stairs. I looked over my shoulder to see Rome following us, and Terzo still standing there, keeping Jonathan from following.
Part of me wanted to stay back, to make sure Terzo was okay. Jonathan Walthall was a suit, annoying but seemingly harmless. But in my experience, the most dangerous people often hid behind the most mundane facades.
And the way he’d asked about the spot, the way his eyes had followed our movements too closely... something wasn’t adding up. But I kept moving, trusting Terzo to handle whatever might come.
“There’s no point in fleeing, ladies,” Jonathan called out, taking a few steps away from Terzo. “You can’t outrun the hell that’s coming for you.”
The smile that spread across his face was cold, calculated. Nothing like the simpering businessman act he’d been putting on for months. He raised his weapon, aiming it at Terzo.
“Terzo!” I screamed as Jonathan pulled the trigger.
The bullet grazed Terzo’s shoulder, tearing fabric and flesh. Thank God Terzo had reached for Jonathan’s wrist in time to throw his aim off, or he would’ve been shot in the chest.
Blood bloomed across Terzo’s shirt as he punched Jonathan in the face, the impact sending the man sprawling to the ground. Terzo wrestled the gun from him with a vicious twist that probably broke Jonathan’s fingers.
“Go,” Terzo called out, his voice strained but commanding.
But I couldn’t leave. Three more men who ran their businesses through Tower D were approaching with their guns raised. One of them I recognized as a Scottish guy named Alasdair, who always told me good morning when I came in. He shrugged at me as he pointed his gun my way.
“Sorry, Little Miss. But the bounty is too much to ignore,” Alasdair said.
I could respect that. But that also meant he had to die. All money wasn’t good money. Rome stepped in front of me, gun raised, pointed at the three men as other workers screamed, running for safety.
“Take them away, Yang,” Rome ordered.
Yang grabbed my arm and pulled as shots rang out. We ducked as we raced around the corner, the sound of gunfire behind us making my heart pound. Rome and Terzo were back there, fighting for us, buying us time with their lives. The urge to turn around, to go back and help, was nearly overwhelming.
“The back stairs need a badge to open,” Yang explained as we ran, her grip on my arm like iron. “Only a few of us can access it. That’s me, you two, and some DeLuca family members. Oh, and Rome Cattaneo. I’ll scan my badge, open the door, and you two go in,” she continued.
“We’re not leaving you behind,” Eve told her.
“I’m coming. I just want to make sure the door closes, and no one sneaks in after us,” Yang replied.
I hung my purse sideways on my body and pulled out my gun. Eve already had hers out. A few terrified employees raced past us, heading for the employee stairwell at the opposite end of the floor. At the back stairwell, Yang scanned her badge, and the door opened with a soft click.
“It doesn’t feel right leaving them behind,” I said, thoughts of Terzo and Rome making me second-guess my actions.
“I agree,” Eve nodded, her eyes darting back the way we’d come.
“What they’re handling is small stuff compared to what could be on the way,” Yang told us.
She was right. If Daniel Abeli was bringing reinforcements, what we’d just seen was only the beginning. The thought of Stefano arriving to find a full-scale war at Tower D made my stomach twist.
“We have to get you away from here. Go, ladies,” Yang said, gesturing toward the stairwell.
Though I knew she was right, it still felt wrong to run from danger, especially when our friends were fighting for us. We entered the stairwell, and Yang stayed behind to make sure the door closed properly.
Eve and I started down the stairs, weapons raised, purses strapped over our chests. Yang followed quickly after us, twin daggers in her hands. I had no idea where she’d pulled them from. We were almost to the next floor when I heard a noise.
“Wait,” I whispered, holding out my arm to stop Eve.
We all paused. Then I heard it. Laughter. A woman’s laughter, the sound echoing in the enclosed space.
“Have the little Americans finally entered the stairwell?” a woman sang from one floor below us.
Yang stepped between Eve and me, quietly moving forward, her knives held low at her sides, ready to strike.
“We know you’re there,” another voice said, a man’s this time, deeper and rougher. “Oro DeLuca told us you would likely use this back stairwell to escape if your little hacker American found out what was going on. He was right.”
“That bastard, Oro,” Eve hissed.
“Who is Oro?” I whispered back, trying to place the name.
“One of Enzo’s cousins who keeps trying to hook him up with good Italian girls,” Eve told me.
Fuck you, Oro, I thought as I listened for movement.
“They’re coming up the stairs,” Yang stated. “Go back,” she told us, nodding toward the door we’d just come through.
We started backing up. I had only taken a few steps when I heard the door we’d just exited open. My grip tightened on my gun.
“I’m pretty sure they came this way,” a guy said from above us.
“Remember, they’re wanted alive,” another added as their footsteps brought them down the stairwell.
Soon, the ones coming down would see us. And soon, the ones coming up would too. We were trapped in the concrete box of the stairwell, caught between two groups of enemies who wanted to sell us to the Irish mafia.
I looked at Eve, saw the same realization dawning in her eyes. We had no choice but to fight our way out. These fuckers had no idea who they were dealing with. They thought they were hunting us. But Eve and I were the real predators here.
“Ready?” I mouthed to her.
She nodded. We might be trapped, but we weren’t going down without one hell of a fight.