32. Lance
32
LANCE
I ’m honestly shocked and a little amazed by just how well Tatiana’s plan came together. Not that I doubted her strategy—only that we managed to coordinate hundreds of men from two completely different cultures, two completely different worlds of organized crime, and we united them into a terrifying force in just a few short hours.
For months, we’ve been trying to do just that. And now, in the final hour, when the life of the Sokolov princess is on the line, it finally happens. The stakes couldn’t be higher.
But my heart hammers with a fresh sense of purpose and determination when I see the troops falling into formation around us. Together, we create a terrifying battering ram and caravan of death as we head down the quiet neighborhood streets of Bayside.
Lucian Agosti’s wrought iron gates come into view once more.
Only this time, we don’t intend to slip inside unnoticed. We plan on crashing right through the Italian don’s front doors.
“Everyone, brace for impact. We don’t know how many cars it might take to bring those things down.” I scowl at the tempered metal barrier that I suspect is more formidable than it looks.
And while we’re the third SUV in a long line ready to swarm the gates, I have a feeling it’s going to take more than one to achieve entry.
The first pair of armored vehicles hit the barrier with a grating shriek of metal on metal. The earth itself seems to tremble, the rock pillars holding the gate in place shake. And crumbs of debris tumble from the twenty-foot-high facade that surrounds Lucian’s compound.
A second set of vehicles drives straight into the bumpers of the first two, and the gate protests loudly, the hinges popping and snapping as the powerful engines rev at full force.
Then it’s our turn, and I put pedal to the metal at the last second, launching the Escalade forward as I plow into the one before us.
“Hoo-eeeh!” one of Tatiana’s men calls like a battle cry.
And with one last ear-piercing shriek, the left-side gate—our side—folds at the joint before snapping free from the wall completely. Our Escalade jumps forward, suddenly free of its obstacle. The first two SUVs before us barrel down the gravel drive, rocks pinging off the cars around them as they race toward the front door of Lucian’s compound.
More cars flood in behind us, and I can’t tell if they broke through the right side of the gate as well or if these are the ones from the left side, filling in the gaps. And I’m not sure it matters as we fill the circular end of Lucian’s drive within moments.
I bring our Escalade skidding to a stop. Behind me, Tatiana gives a soft grunt as the abrupt halt makes her snap forward against her seat belt. And I glance over my shoulder at Killian.
He gives me a curt nod, and I open the driver’s side door, accepting the machine gun Tatiana’s man hands me as I stand on the lip of the car door. Pointing the gun toward the sky, I unleash a quick burst of bullets. A sure sign to get Lucian’s attention. And the signal for the rest of our men to open their doors and arm themselves, fixing their weapons on the front door of the house.
I wait several beats, imagining it might take the don a few seconds to wrap his mind around our sudden presence—the force that we brought with us. And while I wait, I slowly scan the open expanse of Lucian’s property in the daylight.
Slowly, my stomach sinks.
Because it takes me mere seconds to realize we’re not the only ones out here. Tucked back along the property line, on the far side of the house, I spot the glint of countless sniper rifle sights. Then a good number more catch my eye along the roofline.
And while we have the protection of our cars—and certainly the numbers—the men currently aiming guns at us are on home turf. And they have already claimed the high ground.
My chest tightens as the front door opens, and more armed gunmen come flooding out, covering every last inch of the front terrace along with the space behind the decorative bushes beneath the ground-floor windows.
Last, but not least, Lucian comes out, his lips spread in a cool grin, dressed to the nines even now, as he holds a gun to Natasha’s head. Her hands are bound in front of her, and she looks on the brink of murder as she struggles against Lucian with each step.
Still, he drags her forward, gripping her hair a little more tightly every time she tries to resist.
“ Bravo, ” Lucian says emphatically from the top step of his terrace. “You know, after the sideshow act the two of you have been putting on these past few months, I’m really quite impressed. You pulled out all the stops to get your sister back, didn’t you, Miss Sokolov?” he chides. “Or was this all you, Mr. King? Because it would seem you have more skin in the game than I originally realized. After all, I hear you’ve taken the former Miss Natasha Sokolov to be your wife since her father died. Isn’t that right?” He tsks, as if disappointed in Killian. “And after you gave me such a hard time about the terms of my alliance. It would seem everything’s worked out quite nicely for you. Thanks to me.”
He’s trying to rile Killian up, get him to do something rash, I realize. And my stomach drops at the sound of Killian’s voice carrying across the courtyard. He’s rising to Lucian’s bait.
“You’re dead, Agosti,” he growls. “If you’ve hurt a single hair on her head…”
“There’s no need for threats,” Lucian says. “You can have Natasha back in one piece as soon as I get what I want. And I’ve already told Tatiana what that is.”
“Don’t make this any uglier than it’s already become, Lucian,” Tatiana says calmly. “Give me my sister, and we’ll walk out of here, no questions asked. No one has to die.”
Lucian’s lips curl into a cold smile, his hazel eyes glinting. “We’ll see about that. Unless you’ve had enough time to consider my offer. Would you rather give me your father’s empire in exchange for her life?”
In the silence that follows, I glance back over my shoulder, and I’m surprised to find a flicker of indecision in Tatiana’s eyes. She’s actually weighing it as an option.
“Don’t do it, Ti!” Natasha shouts defiantly. “I’ll never forgive you if you do. I would rather die than see the Sokolov empire in this slimy git’s hands.”
A stirring in the Russian forces raises the hair on the back of my neck. They like Natasha’s spunk. And I can feel them preparing to fight. Guns click and shift in men’s grasps behind me.
Still, Tatiana looks torn.
What the hell is she waiting for?
We didn’t bring all our forces together to back down now. Perhaps she’s worried Lucian won’t keep Natasha alive if violence breaks out. But I doubt he would kill her. She makes the perfect shield.
“It seems like I might need to give up Natasha’s little secret after all if I want to motivate you,” Lucian goads, attempting to provoke her.
And I see the way Tatiana’s porcelain skin pales. “This is your last chance, Lucian. Give me Natasha, safe and unharmed, and I’ll let you live.”
Lucian’s smile spreads slowly across his face. “No deal. You see, I think you’ve grown too big for your britches. And if you don’t want to settle this peacefully, then let me cut you down to size.”
“Open fire!” Tatiana commands her men.
Bullets ping in every direction—up to the rooftop, out to the property lines, along the front of the house. Everywhere but within ten feet of where Lucian holds Natasha hostage. She flinches, ducking down to make herself as small as possible.
And while it seems the Sokolov men are being careful not to hit Natasha, their bloodlust drives them to obey Tatiana’s order without question. The Kings join in on Killian’s command, and I take my gun in hand, lining up my sights before I open fire on the rooftop snipers.
We’re not the only ones however.
As soon as Tatiana gives her men the word, Lucian’s reinforcements follow suit, firing back at the squad of armored cars. And while the vehicles offer a considerable amount of cover, it quickly becomes apparent that we’re surrounded on all sides.
While we were busy trying to negotiate, Lucian was ringing us in. And now, we’re sitting ducks. In one ugly, horrifying moment, it becomes clear that the Italians could actually win this fight.