Chapter 30 – Luca
LUCA
Nico braces himself against the dashboard as Enzo curses in the back seat when I take the corner on two wheels.
The gates are open when we arrive. They shouldn't be open. I speed through, not slowing down until I screech to halt at the front of the house, the driver’s door open before the car has come to a complete stop.
The front door is ajar. There are no lights inside, and no signs of movement in any of the front windows.
I’ve been calling Tony and Roman nonstop since I got into the car, but nobody has answered. Something is horribly wrong, and I know exactly what it is.
Mikhail got inside the house.
I go in fast and low, weapon raised, my brothers flanking me. The house is dark, but I know every inch of it, every shadow and corner. The smell hits me first. Blood. Fresh and thick in the air.
Tony is on the floor near the stairs, unconscious, a pool of crimson spreading beneath him. Nico drops to check his pulse.
“Find the others,” I whisper to Enzo, who peels off, clearing each room as he goes.
Forcing myself to pause, I listen, then hurry forward, following the sound of running footsteps somewhere deeper in the house.
Then I turn the corner and see them at the far end of the hallway, Sienna with two hands gripping the patio door, shaking it hard in desperation, but with nowhere left to run. Her white nightdress is splattered with red, her feet are bare and bloody, and her eyes are desperate and wild.
And advancing on her fast, knife in hand, is a tall figure I recognize instantly.
Mikhail Volkov.
I don't hesitate. I fire.
The bullet takes him in the back of the thigh, and he goes down with a roar of pain, knife still clutched in his fist.
Sienna screams, her hands flying up to cover her ears as she cowers, and then I'm running, closing the distance between us in seconds.
Volkov attempts to stand, but his leg buckles.
“That was a warning shot, Volkov. If you move, the next one will be in the back of your head.”
Mikhail nods in typical Russian pragmatism, and the knife clatters to the ground.
Stepping forward quickly, I kick the weapon away before lifting his shirt to check for more.
He makes his move, going for the gun, but off balance with his injured leg, he’s too slow as I twist away.
When I crack him across the back of the skull as hard as I can with the gun, his body crumples to the ground, his cheek hitting marble tile with a satisfying thud.
He’s incapacitated, but a pained groan tells me he’s not quite out cold.
"Sienna." I cross to her, pulling her behind me as I shield her, keeping my gun trained on the lethal intruder currently laying prone on the floor, cursing in Russian. Her body shakes, trembling against me as she clings on, face buried in the back of my shirt.
"Are you hurt? Did he hurt you?" I demand, one hand banded around my back to keep her hidden from him as Enzo joins us.
“I’ve got him,” Enzo confirms, gun pointed at Mikhail’s head, and only then do I allow myself to drop my guard and spin to face her.
Sienna's sobbing, clutching at my jacket and trying to speak, but no words come out as her knees give way. I lead her to a chair and drop her into it, falling to my knees before her, running my hands over her, checking for wounds, but relieved and surprised to find nothing life-threatening.
“Want me to bring him outside?” And end him, is the rest of the sentence Enzo doesn’t want to speak out loud in front of my traumatized soon-to-be wife.
Ignoring him, I focus on Sienna, stroking her hair and making sure she’s not going into shock.
"You're okay." I press my lips to her cheeks, her nose, hugging her close. "You're okay. I've got you."
"He was going to..." She can't finish, big hiccups racking her tiny body as panic threatens to overwhelm her.
"I know." Lifting her chin so she looks at me, I inhale deeply, encouraging her to do the same. We breathe together, pushing through the panic, until she can catch her breath, and her eyes have lost some of their wildness.
Standing, I put my body between her and Mikhail. "Stay there."
Sienna nods, dropping her gaze to stare at her hands.
I turn and move to Enzo’s side. “Help Tony.”
Enzo does a double-take. He doesn’t want to leave us alone with Mikhail, not even if he’s only fifty feet away, for fear the notorious assassin will launch another attack.
“I haven’t frisked him…”
“I have. Go. Take Tony to the hospital with Nico. This is beyond Doc.” I turn to the man who tried to take my wife from me, to ruin my world, to steal the only thing worth living for. “Mikhail and I need to have a little chat.”
Mikhail is on the ground, back against the wall, blood seeping between his fingers where he clutches his leg. He looks up at me with nothing but vast, hollow grief behind his eyes.
"Just do it," he says. "Put me out of my misery. I have no desire to hear your excuses."
I raise the gun. My hand is steady. I've killed before, men better than Mikhail. Every instinct screams at me to pull the trigger, to watch the life drain from him, and to make him pay for every second of terror he’s put Sienna through.
But I don’t.
“Fuck,” I curse loudly. "FUCK. I should," I say, and I mean it. "And maybe I still fucking will. But first, I need to show you this." I growl then raise the gun once more. “The others. Where are they?”
Mikhail's brow furrows, confusion breaking through the emptiness as he stares down the barrel of my gun once more. "What?"
“Just answer the fucking question. Because if you’ve hurt Carmella…”
Mikhail shakes his head and raises his chin, keeping his two hands wrapped around his thigh. “Drugged. In the pantry.”
Good. And yet… I was hoping he’d give me a reason to finish him off.
"Get the fuck up." I keep the gun trained on him but step back, giving him room, while keeping my body between him and my wife. “If you even look at her, breathe in her fucking direction, I won’t blink, won’t hesitate for even a second. Do you understand?”
Mikhail shrugs. He understands, he just doesn't care, which makes him even more dangerous for now.
"Nico. Enzo. Get Tony out of here. He needs a hospital."
“Are you sure…?” Enzo is still reluctant to leave, but I wave him off. Reluctantly, they leave us, and a minute later, we hear heavy footsteps and grunts as they carry him out.
A car starts and tires squeal on pavement as they race to get Tony to someone who can help. And then it's just me, Sienna, and the man who tried to kill her.
"Get up," I repeat.
Mikhail stares at me for a long moment, not understanding why his brain isn’t already splattered all over my walls. Then slowly, painfully, he pushes himself to his feet, leaning against the wall for balance.
Blood runs freely down his leg, dripping onto the marble, but he doesn't seem to notice. “What are you going to do with me? No torture is worse than what I’ve already endured. I welcome the pain.”
Gritting my teeth, I fight back the urge to shoot him just for talking shit. Who knew an assassin in love would be so dramatic?
"Just shut the fuck up and come with me," I say, waving my gun toward my office before going to Sienna and taking her hand in mine, gently encouraging her to her feet.
Her wide eyes meet mine, begging me to get her out of here and away from this man.
“I’m not helping him, Luca. I can’t…” Her hands are shaking, and her eyes fill with tears as she implores me not to force her to be near him. But he needs to understand, and so does she. It's time.
"There’s something you both need to see."