I hear a high-pitched wail and sobbing Russian and glance toward the noise. An older woman slumps over Maksim’s body, crying into his chest. A small man—Nikolai Petrov, I remind myself from the brief on the way here—grabs her and pulls her away from his brother. He barks something in Russian at the other Petrov men before dragging the woman off the altar. Kiara remains still as a tree the entire time.
Cian and I stick to one side, hidden amongst the exodus of wedding guests, but not for long. Finn, Darren, and their team fan out through the sanctuary, spraying bullets at the Russians.By the time they reach us, it’s clear that our two factions aren’t the only ones who want in on the action.
“Three o’clock!” Cian roars.
We flatten ourselves behind the thick marble columns, bullets raining sideways at the space where we just stood.
Adrenaline pumps through my blood, providing momentary pain relief and energizing me despite the hole in my chest that’s packed tighter than an overstuffed suitcase.
Keeping close to the column, I peer in the direction of enemy fire.
De Luca soldiers have created their own barricade in the front of the sanctuary on the left side, and now they and the Russians are firing down the aisle as one.
We can’t move.
But we still have the upper hand.
Because today, we came prepared to fight.
The Italians and Russians came to eat cake.
“Now,” Finn growls to Darren.
“Thought you’d never ask.” Darren lobs smoke bomb cartridges into the center of the room, and a silver fog consumes the flower-infested battlefield.
Our enemies are shouting and shooting into the fog, but their aim is worse now that they don’t know exactly where we are. We’re hoping they might shoot each other by accident. Who doesn’t love a little friendly fire, as long as it’s directed at the other side?
Darren’s rough fingers clamp down on my shoulder. “The hell are you waiting for?” He shoves me toward the altar. “Go get your girl.”
Hidden by the smoke, I make a break for it, skirting around the column into the sanctuary proper, keeping low as I book it toward the front of the room. Moving hurts, but nothing is going to stop me from getting to Kiara.
I’m almost there. Through the haze, the top of the rose decorations and Kiara’s silhouette appear.
I’m so glad to see her, I could break into song.
Before I get there, Leo De Luca throws himself at her, nearly tackling her right off the platform and into the shadows beyond.
I lose sight of them.
No. No fucking way.
Wood screeches against the marble floor behind me as the Kings create their own barricade.
“Move in!” Cian’s order comes through the earpiece I’m wearing, but I barely hear the words.
More gunfire. I drop low again, and even though part of me wants to spin around and jump into the fray with my friends, I stay focused on pushing forward. I may be injured, but I’m also determined.
I’m going to protect Kiara. I’m going to bring her home.
No one is going to hurt her. Not Leo, not the Petrovs.
Not today. Not ever again.
She’s mine.
And there’s nothing Leonardo De Luca can do about it.
Anger and resolve fuse inside me when I peel off from the sanctuary and launch myself into the shadows beyond the altar.
