24. Alina
24
Alina
Damian starts toward me where I lie trapped beneath Luca’s weight.
“Don’t move,” one of the gunmen says, his weapon trained on Damian, who catches my eye and offers a tiny shake of his head.
It doesn’t take a genius to realize he wants me to stay still, stay quiet. Play dead. I’m now covered in Luca’s blood, so I could probably pass for dead at a quick glance. Another gunman has his weapon aimed at Leo, who has pulled Sabina to stand behind him.
Frantic, I look around for any of the men I’ve seen standing in the shadows since I first arrived on the yacht, unobtrusive. Where the fuck are the guards?
The gunmen don’t even glance my way.
I try to listen for Luca’s breathing, for his heartbeat, but I’m at the wrong angle to hear anything.
He’s been my guard, my jailor, and I know he is definitely not a good guy. But he’s been kind to me. Bought me ice cream. Made me laugh. Talked to me. I don’t want him to be dead.
Moving slowly so as not to attract attention, I slide my hand up his neck and almost cry when I find a pulse. He’s alive.
“What the fuck is this?” Leo snarls.
The first gunman, a blond, motions with his gun. “Down the stairs.” He has an accent. Russian?
“Fuck you.”
The man grabs Sabina and yanks her in front of him, the muzzle of his weapon pressed to her temple. My heart lurches.
“Down the stairs, all of you,” he says, and juts his chin toward one of the staircases that lead down to the swim deck. “I am not here to kill her, but I will if you force my hand.”
Sabina’s expression is cool and composed, as if having a gun at her temple is an everyday occurrence.
“Mikhail sent you,” Damian says. “He plans to start a war?”
My gut tells that while he actually does care about who sent these men, he’s talking mostly to buy time, trying to come up with a solution.
“Don’t know any Mikhail,” the gunman says. “Now, walk.”
I hold my breath and stay perfectly still as they descend the stairs, the blond holding Sabina, his gun pressed to her temple. He’s followed by Damian, who is followed by a second gunman who holds his weapon to the base of Damian’s skull. A third gunman holds his weapon to the base of Leo’s skull. The other men bring up the rear.
Once they’re down the stairs and out of sight, I wriggle from beneath Luca’s dead weight and crawl to the edge of the closest staircase, my heart pounding so hard I feel sick. Lying flat, I peer over the edge.
Below me on the swim deck, the blond holds Sabina off to one side, his gun still at her temple. Damian and Leo stand on the far side of the platform, backs to the ocean, the other gunmen aiming their weapons at them. A large motor boat floats off to one side. I hear the waves lapping at the sides.
“What did you do to my men?” Leo asks.
“They’re fine,” a woman’s voice says. “Fast asleep. It was easy enough to distract the chef this morning and put something into their breakfast. After all, everyone trusts Leo Russo’s assistant, don’t they?”
For a second, I don’t know who’s speaking, and then I do.
Nicole moves to stand in front of Leo. Her hair is scraped back in its tight bun, her body covered by a horrifically ugly, oversized sac of a greenish brown dress. But something about her is different. Her posture? The tilt of her head? The timber of her voice?
I remember that both Luca and the guy who wanted to intervene in the fight between Damian and Leo seemed woozy, dizzy. They must have been drugged.
“Guess you found your spy, Leo,” Damian says, sounding bored.
“What the actual fuck…” Leo’s attention is fixed on Nicole. “How long have you been working for the Ivanovs, Nicole?”
“I don’t work for them. This isn’t about your war with the Ivanovs,” she says.
“You betrayed my father,” Leo says, his voice low, even. “You worked at his side for almost two years. You celebrated holidays with my family. You were invited to my cousin’s baby’s christening. And all along you were a spy for the enemy. You repaid my father by collaborating in his murder.”
Nicole’s chin kicks up a notch. “Sorry to disappoint, but I knew nothing about the hit on him until I heard about it with everyone else after he was dead. Saw it on the news. Too bad, really. It would have been an eye for an eye.”
Leo stares at her for a long moment. I would expect his expression to be one of anger, hate. But he looks at her with a calculating gleam, as if he’s sizing her up. “What the fuck are you talking about, an eye for an eye?”
“This is all because of what you did to my father. Killing yours would have been sweet justice. Instead, it seems I’ll have to settle for killing you.”
“I’ve killed a lot of people,” Leo says, sounding bored. “You’ll have to remind me who your father was.”
She jerks as if he slapped her. Then she glances around the swim deck before turning to the blond gunman. “Where’s the other woman?”
“What other woman?” he asks.
I shrink back, holding my breath.
Nicole looks at Damian. “Where’s Alina?”
“She got up early this morning and grabbed some breakfast,” Damian says. “Then she fell asleep again. Out cold in our stateroom. She must have eaten whatever you used to drug the guards.”
There are men holding guns on him, on his brother, his sister, and he’s lying to keep me safe. He’s a good liar. His gaze doesn’t so much as flicker.
Nicole nods. “It’s unfortunate that she’ll wake up to this mess, but I think she’s a tough one. She’ll survive.”
She’s not wrong. I am a tough one and survival is my specialty.
I crawl silently back to Luca’s side. I noticed that neither Leo nor Damian carry a gun while they’re on the boat, but the guards do, so maybe…
I exhale in a rush. There it is. Luca’s Glock, tucked nice and comfy at the base of his spine. I pull it free and do a quick press check to confirm there’s a round in the chamber. Then I wriggle back to my vantage point, calculating odds and angles.
There are six gunmen. One has his weapon on Sabina. Five have their weapons on Damian and Leo. As far as I can tell, Nicole is unarmed.
I swallow, adrenaline pounding through me. I have years of experience at the gun range, aiming at paper targets. But I’ve never shot a person. I don’t know if I can. And which person am I supposed to shoot? How many can I take down before they shoot me ?
The blond presses his fingers to his ear. He turns to Nicole. “Our lookout says that Russo’s men have been alerted. Some sort of silent alarm. They are on their way. We need to go.”
“Nicole—” Leo says.
“Shut up!” She whirls on him. “This is your fucking fault. Own it. You’re responsible for the bomb that set all of this into motion.”
Leo shrugs. “Probably wasn’t me. I’m not really an explosives type of guy. I prefer things up close and personal.”
“I’ll give you up close and personal,” Nicole snarls. “On your knees. Now.”
Leo just stares at her, unmoving.
One of the gunmen moves forward and kicks Leo’s legs out from under him while another forces him to his knees.
Damian surges toward his brother. A third gunman moves between them, weapon poised. Two others grab Damian’s arms, holding him back.
“Today’s not about you,” Nicole says to Damian. “I have no good reason to kill you or her.” She tips her head toward Sabina. “So don’t give me one.”
“Damiano,” Leo says. Damian shoots him a look, then pulls free of the two men holding him.
The pain on Damian’s face reaches inside me and twists.
I would do anything to save my brother.
I have no doubt Damian feels the same. Sabina too.
“Today, you pay the price for what you did,” Nicole says to Leo.
“I didn’t kill your father.”
Nicole ignores him and gestures to one of her men to hand her his weapon.
“Stop! No, don’t do this! Please!” Sabina yells, struggling against her captor, trying to get to her brother.
“Sabina,” Leo says, his tone one of command. “You will stay calm. You will let this happen. And you and Damian will live.”
Even facing death, Leonardo Russo has an air of command, of confidence. And he puts family first. His brother. His sister.
But if he expects that little speech to calm Sabina, he is sorely mistaken. She struggles even harder, twisting and biting, a flurry of elbow jabs and stomps and kicks. Howling at the top of her lungs.
In that second, Damian tackles one of the guards, catching the man’s wrists and struggling for the gun.
Everything happens in a blur.
Nicole aims at Leo.
Leo holds her gaze, his chin lifted. His jaw tense. “Do it,” he snarls.
I aim at her, feeling sick, my hand shaking. Can I shoot this woman to save a man who’d just tried to strangle me?
After what feels like forever, Nicole lets out an anguished yell and drops her arm.
Whatever stopped her, the blond gunman feels no such hesitation. He shoots just as Leo surges to his feet. His body jerks and he spins off the edge of the swim platform, falling into the waves.
The blond grabs Nicole and shoves her toward the motorboat. “We need to go!”
“Leo,” Sabina yells, struggling against the man who holds her. “Leo!”
But Leo is gone, sinking beneath the surface.
Sabina knees the gunman holding her in the groin, then stomps his foot, all while struggling and trying to elbow him in the gut. With a snarl, he punches her in the side of the head. As she falls to her knees, he hits her again with the butt of his gun and runs for the motorboat.
The blond turns and aims. At Damian.
My fear and anxiety fade. I have only one focus. In that instant, I realize that I can, in fact, shoot a person. And I do.
The blond jerks and spins, then falls to the deck.
I hear the roar of a second motor and see a boatload of men speeding toward us.
The remaining gunmen race for the boat that brought them, leaping across the distance as the motor revs. Their boat speeds away.
“Leo!” Sabina yells, struggling to her feet and staggering to the spot where Leo went into the water. She crumples to her knees.
“Get his gun,” Damian orders, then dives into the waves.
Sabina crawls to where the blond gunman lies and grabs his weapon. He doesn’t move. I don’t know if I killed him. And I don’t know what to feel if I did.
Seconds crawl by with no sign of Leo. Damian surfaces for air then dives again.
I glance down at my flowy sundress. It will be dead weight in the water. I set down the gun and peel off my dress. Then I run down the stairs and dive off the swim deck into the cold ocean.
An hour ago—was it only an hour ago?—Leonardo Russo threatened me with a knife, strangled me until I blacked out, and I’m am fairly certain he would have killed me.
But he’s Damian’s brother and Damian loves him.
Losing his father gutted him.
I don’t want him to have to grieve another person he loves. I don’t want him to suffer. I can’t bear it if he suffers.
I surface and gasp another lungful of air, then dive again. As the water closes over me, I realize just how dangerously deep I’ve fallen.