My heart is beating like crazy, horror prickling over me.
“Holy shit, this is too fucking easy.” Fabian’s voice is shrill with excitement. “You guys are a lot slower in your old age. I mean, how old are you? Thirty or something?” He laughs and the tone of his voice slips to playful, as if he’s getting off on this game. “Hmm… Who should I kill first? I’m thinking you’re my first choice, Tomás. But then again, I’d love for you to watch me slaughter your untouchable family.”
Something crosses Tomás’ face, an evil bubbling under the stoic facade he portrays.
“Then again…” Fabian eyes him and continues. “… I came all this way, and your legendary sicario hasn’t shown up to welcome me into his home. Makes me think he doesn’t really care about this sweet little whore.”
“Thing is, kid, you’re not welcome in his house,” Tomás says in a quiet voice. “Pest control should be here soon.”
“Right.” The hard steel prodding my chin digs in deeper. “That’s kinda rude, don’t you think, given I’m taking over your organization? Guess I should kill her first, then.”
Before he gets a chance to say anything else, the shadows in the farthest corner move. I squint to see a figure approaching, only a set of remarkable green eyes visible. The black clothed form embodies eternal darkness.
Giovanni.
My heart skips a beat. The atmosphere instantly changes, making me tingle in a way I can’t explain. My pulse jumps and every skin cell becomes hyperaware of his presence. The instant our gazes snag, I stop breathing.
His villainous dominance commands my full attention, making the guy who’s threatening to shoot me fade from significance.
Between my captor and my man, Giovanni wears the crown of effortless supremacy, whereas Fabian, a spoiled brat, has a lot to learn.
Except this situation doesn’t sit in our favor. André and I are vulnerable to the whim of an egotistical fool.
Giovanni stands by the desk, his boots rooted to the floor, his calculated gaze wandering around the room. Aside from the subtle elevation of his broad chest, he remains motionless in his silent assessment.
My pulse goes haywire at the sight of his black balaclava and dragon emblem, and how his calm appearance is the essence of danger and mastery in one divine form.
“And you must be the fourth brother. Take the stupid mask off. Let’s do this face to face.” Fabian tightens his arm around my waist.
“Step away from her.” Giovanni’s deep, sultry voice tingles right through me.
“This isn’t a negotiation. Make a move and pop…” His gun digs in hard. “Just like that, she’ll be dead.” Fabian drops his nose to my hair and inhales. “Fuck, she smells good, though. Mind if I rail her against the wall first? You guys wouldn’t mind a quick, dirty interlude, would you? All of us could have a go.”
Slowly, Giovanni says something inaudible and tugs the balaclava off. His wild hair falls messily from the top of his head, thick ebony strands hooking his brow.
Although the scar on his cheekbone makes my heart flutter, it reminds me he’s not immortal. None of us are, except for our actions. Those would last for an eternity.
His gaze darts from me to André, to Tomás and Matheus, and then back to me again. Giovanni knows the odds are stacked against us.
The intensity of his stare weaves into my soul, the heat of it warming my veins. And it's in that second when I understand my final challenge.
He can’t save all of us, but he can save some of us.
I choose André.
32
GIOVANNI
In the seconds my eyes are off India, I do a headcount, not seeing Leo. Knowing my woman's quick thinking and devotion, he’d be somewhere in the house, safe for now. A small consolation given the circumstances.
Intermittent gunfire from the other rooms tells me The Covenant are taking care of business. Eventually, there would only be this asshole and a few men left standing at his command.
If my family wasn’t not at the center of this nightmare, I’d take my time to wipe these fuckers out one by one. All in my own sweet time. Doing what I do best. Chasing the thrill of a cruel surprise.
But this is no game. Not when I have to decide who to save first. André… or India.
They’re both under immediate threat. Both of them are powerless to get away without earning a bullet to the brain.
