Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96514 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96514 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Not a chance.
We had sworn an oath to protect our queen. So had Bastian and Damian. They were not leaving my house with her.
“Kurti’s wife is alive,” I said to gain the leader’s attention.
Alex’s captor stared at me in disbelief. “No, she’s dead.”
“I have proof of life.”
He shook his head. “You sent her hand to Mr. Kurti.”
“It wasn’t hers,” I challenged.
“But,” he stammered. “Her wedding ring… it was on her finger.”
“Right ring. Wrong hand.” I rolled my shoulders with indifference. “It’s not my fault your boss can’t tell his wife apart from a stranger. If you hurt Alex, I will gut Kurti’s wife in front of him. Then I’ll kill the rest of his family, his men, and make him watch that too.”
I had him right where I wanted him. That bit of uncertainty was all I needed. Even though he didn’t have orders to kill Alex, this changed the game.
He reached into his pocket and raised his cell phone to his ear. We only needed one slip-up. A small window of opportunity to get her away from him. Speaking in Albanian, he rambled words so fast I couldn’t make sense of them. I watched his chest rise and fall, noted the doubt in his eyes. He handed the phone to the man behind him, and they exchanged a few words. His hand slipped on the knife, and as he lowered his guard, I drew my gun from the holster and shot his elbow.
It was enough to loosen his grip on Alex without hurting her. He staggered backward, grabbing his arm as he howled in pain. As I rushed across the room, Marcello shot the man beside Roman, and I hugged Alex around her middle, tackling her to the ground. With my weight on top of her, I did my best to shield her from the gunfire.
Her life was worth more than mine.
I would gladly die for my queen.
After my brothers fired the last bullet, I waited a few seconds before I rolled off Alex. Tears soaked her flushed cheeks.
I brushed my fingers against her soft skin. “You okay, baby?”
Out of breath, she nodded.
I helped her up from the floor and surveyed the destruction. The man who held Alex at knifepoint was on the floor on his back, gasping for air. Blood dripped from his mouth as he attempted to speak.
He looked up at me, eyes wide. “Is Mrs. Kurti alive?”
I tipped my head back and laughed. “Fuck no, that greedy bitch is dead.”
And now, Marcus Kurti would never know the truth about his wife. He would come for Alex, but the next time, we would be ready.
“Call Wellington,” Damian yelled, hunched over in front of a body on the floor. “We need a fucking doctor. Now!”
I moved to the center of the room with Alex clinging to my side, stepping over bodies to get to my younger brother. Marcello laid on his back beside Roman, his hand on his stomach. He had one eye open, taking shallow breaths as he struggled to speak. Blood stained his white oxford, leaking onto his fingers.
My chest tightened as fear rushed over me.
“Marcello,” Alex cried out, dropping to her knees beside him. “Keep your eyes open,” she said as she wiped his dark hair off his forehead. “You’re not allowed to die on me.”
He stared at her, the life slowly draining from his eyes. She unbuttoned his shirt and studied the bullet wound. There was so much blood it coated her pale skin.
Alex glanced up at me and yelled, “Luca, go get help.”
We left Carl in my office with my dad, but he knew how to navigate the secret passages beneath my estate that led to Wellington Manor. Alex’s grandfather was a skilled surgeon. He didn’t become the CEO of Wellington Pharmaceuticals until after he retired.
I removed my phone from my pocket and dialed Carl, who answered on the second ring. I explained the situation, and he said, “I’m on my way. Assemble the mobile triage in the ballroom. Collect the Knights, get them to help you move Marcello but be careful.”
“Is that Pops?” Alex wiggled her fingers for me to hand her the phone. She raised it to her ear and choked out, “Pops, he doesn’t have much time. He’s losing too much blood.” Wiping blood away with the bottom of her shirt, she appraised the wound. “I think the bullet hit his liver…” She sobbed. “You know what that means… Just tell me what to do.”
I ordered Bastian and Damian to ensure the medical staff made it onto the premises, and they ran out of the room without a word. Then I wrote a group text message to the Knights, telling them to get upstairs with a stretcher. After I got stabbed last year, we started taking precautions. My father had spent millions to have a mobile triage unit. Within minutes, we’d have medical staff on-site if they could get past the armed Albanians still firing shots outside.