Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
“I’m good, thanks for asking,” Viktor replies. “Alek is with me at the back of the house. He’s knocked out cold but looks okay. Any sign of Luca?”
He was on the top floor.
My eyes jump wildly over the survivors, and not seeing my boss, I don’t hesitate and run into the burning house.
Instantly my lungs protest from all the smoke and heat, but I head toward the stairs. A beam falls from the ceiling sending sparks of embers into the air.
Coughing, I make my way up the stairs, where the banister is crumbling to pieces. My eyes are on fire and watering, the heat singeing my clothes.
“Luca!” I call out, immediately coughing again.
I see a body lying near a bedroom door, and hurrying toward it, I crouch. Intense relief shudders through me when I see it’s my boss.
He’s unconscious, and not wasting time, I haul his heavy body up off the floor. Wrapping his arm over my shoulders, I take his weight and drag him to the stairs.
“Where the fuck is Luca?” Viktor shouts over the earpiece.
Unable to let go of my boss, I can’t answer that I have him and continue down the stairs. His dead weight throws me off balance, and we fall. Pain tears through my right arm, but I ignore it as I grab hold of Luca’s wrists to pull him the rest of the way.
The moment I feel the cool air of the night against my back, Misha grabs Luca’s arm and helps me drag him onto the lawn and away from danger.
“I have Luca,” I finally answer. “He’s unconscious.”
When I check his breathing and find nothing, icy fear spreads through my veins. Not hesitating, I start CPR, and I don’t fucking stop until he starts to cough and wheeze.
Thank fuck!
Sitting flat on my ass beside him, I slap his back while exhaustion creeps into my bones.
“We have to move,” Misha says.
He grabs my right arm, and I let out a grunt of pain. “Not that arm. It’s broken.”
“Fuck, sorry.”
I struggle to my feet and help Luca up. He’s still dazed, so Misha helps me to drag him toward the SUVs where Viktor, Alek, and the survivors are waiting.
Viktor immediately takes Luca from us and guides him into the passenger seat of an SUV.
“Let’s go,” Alek shouts, taking the driver's side of another vehicle. Misha and I climb in, and as we drive away, I look at the house as it crumbles to the ground.
I might not have killed the fucker, but at least he’s dead, even if it’s by his own doing.
Like Misha said, Makarova knew his days were numbered, and he wanted to take as many of us as possible with him.
By the time we get back to St. Monarch’s, I’m starting to get used to the pain of my broken arm.
During the flight from Russia to Geneva, we tried to take care of the wounded men, but I’m so fucking relieved when we hand them over to the care of the doctors at St. Monarch’s.
I’m covered in soot as I walk into the castle, but before I can head to the suite where my family is, Luca grabs hold of my left shoulder.
“No. Get your ass to the infirmary and have them look at your arm,” he orders.
When we enter the infirmary, the place is crowded. “I’ll come back later when they’re done tending to the wounded.”
Luca shakes his head and calls a doctor closer. “Check his arm.”
It takes a while because I have to get an X-ray, and when it’s confirmed that my forearm is broken, it has to be set in a cast.
Just fucking great. Six weeks of walking around with this shit on my arm.
Luca stands with his arms crossed over his chest, an ‘I told you so’ expression on his face.
“Yeah, you were right,” I say, just to please my boss.
When I finally get to leave the infirmary, Luca drags my ass to the office and shuts the door behind us. “Thank you, Armani.” He comes closer, and lifting a hand to my left shoulder, he gives me a squeeze. “You saved my life. I’ll never forget it.”
“I was just doing my job, sir. Without you, the mafia is fucked,” I answer honestly.
His eyes lock with mine, and I see the gratitude in them. “I’m giving you the north of Italy. Franco will join me in America.”
Jesus.
My lips part with shock. It’s a huge fucking deal getting to control the northern territory. It takes a lifetime to work yourself up to such a high position.
He pats my shoulder. “You’ve proven your loyalty when you ran into a burning house for me. You deserve the promotion.”
Feeling fucking elated, I grin at my boss. “Thank you, sir. I won’t disappoint you.”
He meets my smile with one of his own. “I know.”