Chapter 23
A year ago, maybe even two, Estella would have second guessed herself. She’d have told herself she was jumping at shadows, given herself a beat to process the information, listened again to be sure. If she’d done that now, they’d both be dead.
It only took one barely audible click from somewhere on the other side of that door for Estella to act, even with alcohol dulling her senses.
In barely a second, Estella had turned the room to darkness, hushed Ellie, and pulled them both to the window, wrenching the curtain tie loose to cover them both. For a few beats there was silence.
Estella listened acutely, every single nerve in her body jangling.
She heard it again. Another click. And then a creak as the external door to the waiting room slowly opened and closed quietly behind someone.
It wasn’t Kenneth, she knew that instantly.
He never snuck up on her, especially since he knew how jumpy she was, and the fact she normally wasn’t far off from a loaded firearm.
Goddamnit, she swore internally. There were two guns in this room.
One, in the shoulder bag she’d casually dropped beneath her desk, and the other in her desk drawer.
The gun drawer was locked; she was responsible that way.
It was the first thing she did when she worked out of the office: unlocked her gun, just in case.
The desk keys were also in her bag. The handgun resting in the specially-fitted holster inside that bag was her best bet, but it was six feet away from her.
She’d needed to move in two directions at once — toward the bag, and to a hiding spot — and she’d failed.
Was it the whisky or was it Ellie? She wasn’t sure.
Ellie was — thank god — frozen still next to her.
You could never know with normies, they hadn’t grown up with instincts being honed the way hers were.
But Ellie seemed to catch on quicker than most, and by the way she’d turned to stone here in their hiding place, it seemed quite clear she had instantly grasped just how dangerous the situation was.
Kenneth would be in the car, right now, a full block away, waiting.
It would be perhaps another minute before he realised she wasn’t there and came hunting.
She knew he’d use the tracking app on her phone to trace her and soon he’d be charging through the door.
But would it be soon enough? There was a small thud in the waiting room, and a quick string of swearing: a man’s voice, in Italian.
Surprise surprise, a fucking Florelli. This was definitely bad.
A reconnaissance mission? Or something more dangerous?
It was certainly not nothing if they’d risk raiding the office of the head of the Grant family.
She’d been waiting for their next move after Ava’s disappearance and it couldn’t have been more ill-timed than this.
She heard a sharp inhale from beside her.
Then another. She turned her head quickly toward Ellie, and saw that her normally pale skin was sheet-white.
She was trying not to hyperventilate, sucking in air.
Each breath was ragged and too loud. They’d be found like this in an instant.
She didn’t hesitate, pulling Ellie in and holding her tightly against her body, the only way she could think to appropriately muffle her.
Ellie sucked in another breath, perhaps in shock, and Estella pressed Ellie’s face firmly into her shoulder.
She’d literally suffocate her to keep her safe if she had to.
Because whoever the Florelli was, he’d be armed and furious.
The office door creaked open. She gripped Ellie tighter.
There was only barely room enough for the two of them to hide.
Any big movements and the curtain would give them away.
She thanked god fervently for her fetish for beautiful fabrics and the fact this one draped generously to the floor, hiding their feet from view.
The desk light flicked back on. Oh, this was fucking bad.
It would only take a second before this motherfucker found her bag and discovered she was there.
She scrunched her eyes closed, trying to think, suddenly lightheaded with fear at this catastrophic clusterfuck she’d allowed to happen.
She should be better than this! Ellie’s body was crushed fully against hers, even her feet were pressed either side of Estella’s, closer than they’d ever been, even that evening at yoga.
For a second, the feeling grounded her. Ellie was hot to touch and firm and — Estella remembered all over again — exactly her same height.
Ellie’s fast breaths were escaping in little puffs against her throat, Estella still gripping the back of her head to hold her there, her other arm clasped tight around her back.
Estella slowed her own breathing, keeping every inhale and exhale as silent as possible, but she could feel a trembling between their bodies.
For a moment she wasn’t sure which one of them was shaking and she hoped it was Ellie.
Her knees wanted to give out though, and she realised, to her horror, that it was her.
This was not how she planned on ending. The Florellis were always out for Grant blood, but she’d dealt them a humiliating blow, right before Christmas, and every member of the Grants had spent every second of their lives on high alert ever since.
And somehow, tonight, Estella — of all people — had let her guard down. Stupid.
If this henchman found her, shivering and unarmed behind a curtain, it would be far worse than a quick assassination; her mother had taught her that.
Because what a trophy capturing Estella Grant would be!
What a bargaining chip! What a way to bring the Grants to their knees!
And Ellie? What would she be? Collateral damage?
It was at that moment that she heard a shuffle, a muffled exclamation, and the distinctive sound of a gun barrel slide as a bullet clicked into the chamber. Her bag had been discovered.
“Estella, you pretty little thing,” came the voice. She recognised it instantly. Gio Florelli. The one man on the planet who — right now anyway — hated Estella the most. “What a fucking treat. Come on out here, little kitty, I just want to talk.”
Estella gripped Ellie closer. Where the fuck was Ken? She could feel Ellie shaking now too, her hands gripped tight around Estella’s waist, her breathing ragged. She heard Gio start to pace, heard him rip open the curtains on the other side of the room, swearing again when she wasn’t there.
She thought, fast. It was probably 70/30 in her favour that Gio wouldn’t shoot her on sight.
She might keep him talking long enough that Ken would make it to them in time.
But when he did, Gio would immediately turn her into a hostage, which would be messy as hell.
Still, it was her best chance of protecting Ellie.
Better to show herself, alone, than let him find them both.
She pulled back, and fixed Ellie with a ferocious glare that said stay still.
Then, with the crystal-clear knowledge she might be about to die, she pressed a quick kiss to Ellie’s clammy forehead.
Maybe then, Ellie would know that Estella had gone willingly.
She avoided Ellie’s eyes, felt the desperation in the cling of her hands and shoved them away with force. Then, careful to keep the curtains intact behind her, she stepped into the room.
“Gio,” she announced herself, and he whirled around, pointing his gun at her. She gave a little shrug, letting him see she was unarmed and stepped further away from the window, and from Ellie. He followed her movement with his gun. “So charming to see you. To what do I owe this little visit?”
“Wow,” said Gio, not dropping his weapon by a centimetre.
“What a lovely turn of events this is. You murder my sister-in-law and abduct my niece right before her wedding. You double-cross my father and make me look like a fucking fool. And now here we are, all alone, just me, and you, and my gun. I’d say the possibilities are endless. ”
Estella took another two steps away from Ellie’s hiding place.
God, men loved to hear themselves talk, especially with a captured audience.
This idiot. “You really give me a lot of credit,” she said lightly.
“Seems like you’re pretty good at misplacing women, aren’t you?
Isn’t that why your wife left you? Couldn’t please her? ”
“Shut up and listen to me.” Gio was furious and twitchy.
This could go either way, but it was better than letting him be in control.
This nitwit couldn’t organise himself out of a paper-bag, not if she distracted him.
He’d probably never even made his own lunch.
“We’re going to take this conversation elsewhere.
Somewhere private. Somewhere I control. Keep your hands where I can see them. ”
“Gio — bless you — that’s a bit sad. Is that the only way you can get women to do what you want?
” Estella didn’t move an inch. There was no way she was going to leave this room, whether that left her alive or dead.
Dying quickly here was a far better option than whatever the Florellis would do if she walked out that door with Gio.
As long as Ellie managed to stay still. Estella raised her chin.
“Your wife was gagging for it, did you know that? Bet you didn’t.
Begging for it. But you just couldn’t do it for her. Women talk to each other, you know.”
“Shut your fucking mouth!” he roared. “Go to the door, before I blow your head off.”
Slowly, she moved toward the door, praying Kenneth was on the other side of it.
Gio followed her, moving slowly around behind her desk as he did.
Estella forced herself not to look at the curtains behind him, praying Ellie would keep her shit together.
He was barely three feet from where she was hidden.
It would only take one ragged breath for him to discover her now.
“I think she would have let me fuck her,” Estella goaded him harder, keeping her voice loud to cover any other sound. “Pretty thing like that? Poor little Gio, all limp and alone, and your wife would have gotten on her knees and begged just for the chance to get to please me.”
“You fucking sick whore—” he flicked off the gun safety with a snap, raising both his arms and Estella knew she’d fatally miscalculated, pushing him one step too far. Her last thought was that at least she wouldn’t die like her mother, as the gunfire exploded.
It took a few seconds, her ears ringing, her eyes scrunched closed, to realise she wasn’t dead.
There was a hole in the wall a few feet from her head, Gio was flat on the ground, Ken half on top of him, thrusting his arms behind his back as he groaned.
Blood ran down from Gio’s thick black hair to the back of his neck and standing behind him, eyes blazing, Estella’s heavy desk lamp in her hands, stood Ellie Graham.
“Oh fuck,” whispered Ellie. At least, Estella thought that was what she was lip-reading, despite the ringing of her ears and the faint sound of Ken’s rough expletives over Gio’s groans.
Ken had Gio’s wrists cable-tied, even as he bucked and groaned, face down on the floor, blood soaking down the back of his shirt now.
Ellie looked at the lamp in her hands and let it go suddenly.
It crashed at her feet. She was bright white, two spots of red in her cheeks.
Estella crossed the room and gripped her shoulders. “Ellie,” she said, urgently. “Ellie.” Ellie’s eyes were a little wild, but she looked up and Estella held her gaze. “You saved my fucking life,” she said, over the commotion on the floor.
“You saved mine,” Ellie choked out. “I know what you were doing—”
“Oh, please.” Estella stopped her. She looked down at the broken lamp on the floor. “Looks like you were quite capable of protecting yourself.”
Ellie let out a sound that was half sob, half laugh and just like that she was back in Estella’s arms, crying, clinging to her, and Estella, in her shock, wrapped her arms around her automatically.
She let Ellie weep against her and shiver, and she closed her eyes, feeling the weirdest sense that for this, one, half a minute in time, this was exactly what she needed.
There was a hard cough from the floor beside them, and she loosened her grip around Ellie, turning them both, just enough to see Ken with his eyebrows thoroughly raised, Gio’s blood smeared up his arms, one huge knee in the centre of a bucking mobster on the floor.
“A little help, here, boss?”