Chapter 14
Cara
Fear pierces my heart as Dmitri gets dragged back into the darkness, inside the villa, away from the balcony.
I climb back over the railing and bolt through the open doors, my shoes skidding on polished wood.
A lean man with messy dark hair is standing over Dmitri.
Dmitri barely moves, looking stunned as he slowly blinks his eyes. He tries to lift his head to sit up, but the guard deals a hefty punch to his face to knock him back down.
Rage boils up hot and instant. My hand finds the knife at my back. The sheath hits the floor as I charge him, jumping onto his back and knocking him off balance.
He snarls and whips around, slamming me into the wall before I can plunge the knife into his chest.
The impact stuns me, making me fall off his back and hit the floor next to Dmitri, who struggles to even roll over to get up.
The guard roughly clears his throat as he glares down at me. “You little bitch.”
His voice hits me like a fist, cigarette breath, the lazy cruelty of his laughter.
Chain Smoker.
No doubt about it.
I grit my teeth and hold the knife in front of me, pointing it toward him as I use the wall for support to help me stand. “You’re going to die tonight.”
“Because of you?” He laughs, then coughs wetly. “You don’t know how to do anything but cry and bleed.”
I lunge forward, trying to drive the knife into his stomach.
He sidesteps the knife and grabs my shoulders, slamming me back against the wall hard enough to knock the air out of my lungs. He slams my wrists above my head, forearm crushing my throat just enough to steal air.
“I should’ve killed you down in that basement, you worthless little whore.”
Fear pounds through me, but anger still burns within me. It’s enough to make me spit in his face in response.
The guard grits his teeth in fury, his fingers sinking into my arms at a bruising pressure. “You’re fucking dead.”
A gunshot suddenly rings out, a bullet tearing through the man’s shoulder.
Dmitri’s still down, gun raised one-handed, eyes feral.
The guard stumbles away from me, grabbing at his shoulder as blood pours down his arm. My instincts kick in, and I drive the knife into his gut with a sound I don’t recognize, rip it free, and stab again, blood spilling onto my hand.
The guard screams and his legs give out, causing him to crumble to the floor.
Blood drips off my hand as I back away, breathing heavily as the red puddle around him expands. My body shakes, shock, adrenaline, and beneath it, a colder fear: Did any of this hurt the baby?
Dmitri grabs the wall to pull himself up to his feet, grimacing as he presses his hand against the back of his head. “That motherfucker.”
I don’t flinch when Dmitri puts one more bullet into him.
Dmitri makes his way over to me and pulls me into his arms. “Are you okay?”
I wrap my arms around his waist and nod, breathing in his familiar scent instead of all the blood. “I’m fine.”
Dmitri presses a brief kiss against my temple before taking my hand. “We find Ferro,” he says, voice like a blade. “We end this.”
“How?” I ask him as we sprint down the corridor toward the front stairs, gunfire echoing below.
“We might have to comb the whole place. I wish Luca was here. We could’ve done the radio trick to draw Ferro out,” Dmitri replies before opening another set of double doors on our right. We stumble into a living room space. Two Italians are already there, one tending to the other’s wounds.
Dmitri raises his gun and fires once. The uninjured man drops.
The injured one shouts in anger, scrambling for his gun.
Dmitri kicks the gun away, then drives the man flat with his boot to his chest. “Keep quiet or you’ll end up like your friend.”
I move to Dmitri’s side, staring down at the Italian as blood stains his shirt from an injury to his left side.
“You’re all going to die,” he spits out. His eyes land on me, and they immediately narrow.
He recognizes me.
Dmitri notices the realization on his face. “Were you at the farmhouse? Did you torture her?”
He tenses as Dmitri presses the gun against his forehead. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I strain my ears, trying to pick up any notes of familiarity in his voice. I swear that I’ve heard it before but not often.
“Yes, you do!” Dmitri snaps at him, planting his foot even harder on the man’s chest.
The guard grimaces. “Stop! You son of a bitch. I’m going to rip your fucking tongue out!”
That insult sounds familiar, but it wasn’t because I talked too much. It was because I didn’t talk enough.
“Whistle,” I say.
“What?” the guard scoffs at me.
“Whistle,” I say in a firmer voice. It’s the only way for me to test my theory.
“You fucking heard her,” Dmitri growls as he nudges the man’s forehead with the end of the gun barrel.
The guard clenches his jaw in frustration before starting to whistle.
The tune curls through the room, the same stupid, cheerful melody that kept me awake in the basement.
“He’s one of the guards,” I tell Dmitri, my eyes not leaving the man’s as he glares up at me. “He was in charge of feeding me, and I can’t count how many days he conveniently forgot to do his job.”
“You starved her?” Dmitri’s voice drops as he cocks the gun.
The guard tries to shrink back as much as he can. “Wait!”
Dmitri draws the gun back, only to slam it against the guard’s temple. “Don’t tell me to fucking wait!”
The guard grimaces in pain as he grabs his head, nearly curling up in a ball at Dmitri’s feet.
Dmitri turns to me, fire blazing in his eyes. “Once I’ve got what I need, he’s done,” Dmitri says. “Then I use the radio.”
I nod in understanding. If the guard has no use to us, there’s no reason to keep him alive. “Do it.”
“Are you sure?” Dmitri asks as he holds the gun out to me.
“I’ll get the next one,” I tell him, the corner of my mouth turning up. Honestly, I want the one who tried to make me miscarry the most.
Dmitri mirrors my expression before turning back to the guard and lifting the gun.
“Wait! Wait!” the guard cries out as he lifts his hands in surrender. “What do you want? Don’t kill me!”
Air puffs out of Dmitri’s nose. “Going to crumble that quickly, huh?”
The guard nearly shakes. “I can give you information!”
“Get your radio. Tell me what’s happening on the other floors,” Dmitri replies.
The guard grabs his radio and turns up the volume, different voices bursting through the speaker. All of the voices sound urgent as they rattle off Italian. “We…We’re losing men.”
“How do I know you’re not fucking lying?” Dmitri snaps as he steps closer to him.
The guard quickly shakes his head. “We’re pinned down in the kitchen on the first floor and in one of the bedrooms on the third floor.”
“Any word on Ferro?” Dmitri questions him.
The guard pauses, his lips forming a firm line. He doesn’t say a word.
Dmitri lets out a bitter laugh. “That bastard doesn’t give a shit about you.”
The guard swallows hard. “I haven’t heard anything about him. I don’t know where he is.”
“Well, he must be in here somewhere,” Dmitri replies. “Does he have a radio on him?”
The guard nods.
“Perfect,” Dmitri says before firing his gun, putting a bullet through the guard’s forehead to make him slump onto the floor.
He snatches the radio out of the guard’s hand before walking over to me.
“If I can find Ferro unguarded, I can finish this. It sounds like our guys are already handling the rest of his men.”
“What if they decide to all come after you? They’ll hear you on the radio,” I tell him as I frown in worry.
“Hopefully, our side deals with them before they can reach me,” Dmitri replies before turning around and picking up Show Tunes’ gun off the ground. He hands it to me. “If not…you could watch my back.”
I look down at the handgun, surprised by the weight of it in my hand. It looks so much lighter when Dmitri wields it.
“If you can,” Dmitri says softly as he gently guides my hands into the right place.
I draw in a deep breath through my nose and nod. Comfort honestly doesn’t matter anymore. What matters is that we do what we have to do to keep each other alive, which means I need to be okay using this gun.
“I can,” I say as I lower it, holding the grip firmly. “I’m ready.”
Dmitri gently brushes his fingertips along my jaw, his eyes roaming over me like he’s drinking in the sight of me.
“Stop,” I tell him.
“Stop what?” Dmitri asks as he lowers his hand.
“Stop looking at me like it’s the last time you’ll see me,” I reply, giving him a pointed look. “Because you’re not dying. You don’t get to.”
Dmitri smiles a little before checking how many bullets are in the clip of his gun. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just stopping to admire a beautiful woman.”
I roll my eyes to try to stop them from watering.
Dmitri lifts the radio to his mouth. He meets my eyes before pressing the talk button. “Ferro, I know that you’re listening, and I’m sure that you know who I am. I bet you’re hiding somewhere in this villa like the rat you are. Meet me in the garden,” Dmitri says. “Or I’ll drag you out.”
I watch him release the button and lower the radio, tension hanging in the air around us. It’s borderline suffocating. “We should try to get there before he does. Maybe you can hide and ambush him.”
Dmitri places his hand on my cheek as he leans close. “Either way, I’m going to end him.”
My heart races in panic.
“Be smart about it,” I tell him, unable to get out any other words.
“Always.” Dmitri presses a gentle kiss against my lips. “Now, let’s go.”
With the gun in my hand, I follow him out of the room and into the hallway, heading toward the staircase that leads down to the first floor. Gunshots and shouts sound in the distance, and we carefully ease down the stairs to not draw attention to ourselves.
“Drop your weapons, yeah! Kick them over here!” Sean’s voice rings out from another room.
I’m not surprised to hear multiple gunshots follow his voice. We’re not leaving any survivors tonight. It’s too risky.
“Do you think Luca and Andrei are okay?” I ask Dmitri as we slip into another hallway, searching for a door that leads to the garden out back.
“I’m sure they’re fine,” Dmitri replies.
We step over bodies, Italian, Irish, Bratva, and my hand flies to my stomach like I can shield the baby from the sight.
It hurts my heart seeing familiar faces, but we all knew that this was a possibility of this mission. No one is guaranteed to come out of it alive.
When we finally find another set of double doors at the back of the house, we pause and turn to each other.
“Ready?” he murmurs.
This time, I’m the one who can’t help but take in every detail of his face. We’re supposed to be celebrating the news of being pregnant, not about to fight for our lives.
“Hey,” Dmitri says softly, bringing me back to reality. “We survive. Together.”
Maybe he can’t make that promise to me, but we can fight to make it the truth.
“I love you,” I tell him.
Dmitri smiles. “I love you.”
He throws the doors wide, and we walk out into the night ready to face the next battle.