Chapter 15
Dmitri
Moonlight washes the garden in silver.
Cara and I walk through neatly trimmed hedges clipped into clean walls.
My eyes move back and forth, sweeping the area and checking for any signs of life.
Nothing so far.
“What if Ferro is already dead?” Cara whispers to me, sticking close to my back as she trails behind me.
“Then I’ll be furious I didn’t get to do it myself,” I mutter as I follow the path right around a faint curve. The garden almost feels like a maze at this point.
I know she’s hoping that Ferro is already dealt with so that I don’t have to risk myself, but the bastard has managed to stay alive for this long. I doubt that he’s dead from a little shootout inside.
The path meets a circular clearing in the middle of the garden made of cobblestone with a stone fountain in the center. The water tumbles from the cylindrical spout with a gentle trickle, pooling in the circular basin below.
“Dmitri.”
Cara’s whisper is a blade. A shadow steps into the moonlight beyond the fountain.
“Paolo,” I say as he comes into view, blood staining his knuckles and right cheek.
Paolo Ferro is older than Enrico, but nothing about him reads weak. He’s tall, broad, with gray threaded through dark hair and beard.
He looks down at the gun in my hand. “I figured you would want to settle this like men.”
“I don’t want you to die fast. I want you to suffer.” I turn to Cara. “Hide,” I snap.
Cara hesitates, gun tight in her hand, then slips back into the hedges, disappearing into the green.
I turn back to Paolo, still holding my gun. “I’m surprised you showed up. You hate Luca that much?”
“You were a sweetener,” he states as he looks me up and down. “I heard you were the one who killed my nephew. I figured I would dispose of the traitor and the murderer in one night. Two birds, one stone.”
I can only hope that Luca is alive.
“Good luck with that,” I reply, my index finger resting against the side of the gun barrel, ready to fly to the trigger.
Paolo’s mouth curls. “When I’m done with you, I’ll finish what I started with your girl.”
My pulse goes cold. “What did you say?”
Shit. I need names from him. Every last one of them who hurt Cara.
But my hands want his throat more than they want answers right now.
He chuckles, low, pleased. “I was at the farmhouse. I heard her scream.” He tilts his head. “And I remember how she looked when I cut her.”
I clench my teeth so tightly that my jaw aches. He’s one of her torturers. He laid his hands on her. He hurt her.
“This time,” he adds, voice soft, “I won’t stop at her pretty face.”
My blood boils, my hand threatening to shake as I tighten my grip on my gun. Every single word that comes out of his mouth makes me even more furious. But before he dies, I have to find out the names of everyone else who hurt Cara so I can end them all.
“I wanted information, but I almost liked that she resisted. Made it that much more fun to bring her to tears. Over and over again,” Paolo says. “Maybe this time, I’ll try something different. Maybe I’ll see how pretty she looks underneath those clothes.”
“You’re not leaving here alive tonight, you sick bastard,” I grit out, so furious it makes me nauseous.
Paolo’s shoulders shake with a quiet laugh. “Maybe I’ll break your spine and paralyze you. Make you watch.”
I lift my gun and fire, but rage makes my hand shake while my concussion screams behind my eyes. The shot sails over his head.
At lightning speed, he runs at me, tackling me to the ground and knocking my gun from my grip. It tumbles across the cobblestone clearing away from us. He deals a punch to my face, making me see stars as pain radiates through my recently concussed head.
I put my hands up, blocking what hits that I can as he pins me down with the weight of his body. Adrenaline pulses through me, giving me enough strength and blocking out the pain enough for me to strike upward and catch his chin with my fist.
Paolo grunts as his head snaps back.
I slam my fist against his cheek, knocking him sideways and throwing off his aim enough to shove him off me. I quickly roll onto my stomach and push myself up, fighting through the waves of pain that keep crashing down on me.
Paolo gets up to his hands and knees, a frustrated growl sounding in his throat.
I drive my foot against him in a harsh kick, flipping him onto his back then kneeling next to him. I grab the front of his white shirt before punching him in the nose, bone hitting bone. My knuckles ache from the impact, but I don’t stop.
I don’t care if I break every bone in my hand. He isn’t making it out of this fight alive.
Paolo manages to grab my wrist and yank me forward, causing me to crash against him. He grapples with me, trying to get the upper hand.
I dig my feet into the ground to get leverage, but he knees me in the stomach so hard that I lose my breath. I try to suck in air, but my lungs burn in protest.
Paolo shoves me off and stumbles to his feet, one eye swollen shut as blood drips from his slightly crooked nose. He spits blood on the ground next to me. “You’re weak. You can’t protect her! You might as well just hand her over to me now.”
I stand up, grasping at my stomach as I struggle to take a deep breath. “You’re not laying…a hand on her. Never again.”
Paolo smirks as we face each other. “Soon, you’re not going to have much of a choice in the matter.”
I grit my teeth before running at him, crashing into him, but he doesn’t fall. He grabs my arms instead, blocking my tackle and my punch.
Paolo spins us around and shoves my back against the side of the fountain. Pain detonates through my back making me shout out in agony.
Paolo takes advantage of that and whirls me around and slams my head into the fountain.
Water fills my nose, my mouth. It’s cold, brutal. He keeps me down with all his weight, and I can’t find the rim, only slick stone.
My lungs burn. My strength drains. The world narrows to black around the edges.
Not like this. Not before my baby even gets a chance—
A gunshot cracks the night.
It catches Paolo off guard enough for his grip on me to loosen. I use every ounce of strength that I have left to surge upward, my head finally breaking through the surface of the water. A gasp tears from me as I suck in a deep breath before coughing violently.
Paolo grabs me again, but my stubbornness is stronger than his now.
I slam my shoulder against his chest, knocking him back away from me and buying myself enough time to catch my breath. Water rolls off my face and drips from my hair, the top of my shirt soaking wet.
That shot…Cara. It has to be.
Fuck.
What if someone found her and shot at her?
I start to head in that direction, willing to leave this fight behind for now for her, but Paolo blocks my path, his face twisted in fury.
“You just won’t die, will you?” he snaps as he approaches me.
I have to finish this fight.
“Try again,” I tell him.
Paolo swings at me.
I duck and drive my fist into his stomach, forcing the air from his lungs.
He slams his elbow against the side of my head, making my ears ring as my vision blacks out for a second.
I dig my feet into the cobblestone, steadying myself so that I don’t topple over.
I punch him in the throat, making him wheeze painfully. My hands reach for him, grasping his shirt in two tight handfuls as I kick the side of his knee. I shove him down to the ground on his knees as his leg gives out.
Paolo flails, but I don’t let him fall over.
I move behind him and wrap my arm around his throat, pulling as tightly as I can. My fingers wrap around my wrist, putting my weight on my own arm to crush his throat.
Paolo gasps for air, trying to pry me off him.
I clench my jaw, letting out a strained groan as I put all my strength into cutting off his air.
“Names,” I grind out. “Every. One. Tell me!”
“Fuck you…Ivanov.” Paolo’s grip on my arm slowly loosens, a strangled sound leaving him like a ragged whisper.
“Fuck you, Ferro,” I grit out in response before applying more pressure until he goes completely fucking limp, lifeless. Then, I finally let him fall to the ground at my feet.
I straighten up with an exhausted exhale, my body shaking as I fight the urge to collapse. My gaze lowers to Paolo as he stares lifelessly at the sky, moonlight reflecting in his glazed, bulging eyes.
“Dmitri!”
Cara breaks from the hedges and runs to me, right into my arms. I ignore the pain that ripples through my body from the light impact. “I heard a gunshot. What happened?”
Cara rests her cheek against my chest. “One of his guards came to the garden.”
“You killed him?” I ask her as I cup her face, expecting to see guilt or uneasiness on her face.
Instead, Cara peers up at me with a straight, unwavering face. “I was afraid to shoot at Paolo and miss…but I wasn’t going to let anyone else get to you.”
She had my back. Of course, she did.
I press my lips against her forehead, holding her there for a few seconds as I take some time to recover.
“You’re hurt,” Cara says, her face contorting in worry as she gently touches my damaged face. “I was so worried about you.”
I kiss her palm. “I’ll live. I didn’t get any names out of him, though.” Somehow, someway, I’ll hunt down every person who hurt Cara. No matter what it takes.
“It’s okay. That doesn’t matter as long as you’re…why are you soaking wet?” Cara asks before passing a wary glance over at the fountain.
“As embarrassing as it is, he almost drowned me,” I admit.
Cara sighs, sounding stressed as she wraps her arms around my neck. “I’m glad you’re okay,” she whispers. “I’m not doing this without you, Dmitri.”
She could because she’s already proven that she can handle anything, but I don’t want her to have to do that.
“I’m here. Always,” I promise her before glancing toward the house. “We need to check on the others.”
Cara nods in agreement as she takes my hand, her other hand holding her handgun.