Page 108 of Dark Alliance
In my periphery, four more Russians pile into the room.
Three attack Connor as one somersaults over the mattress and lands on me, pinning me to the floor and knocking the wind out of my lungs. The asshole extracts the gun from my hand with ease. Trapped beneath him, I can see feet moving from under the bed and hear the grunts of a three-on-one struggle.
“Connor!”
The guy on top of me snarls. “Shut your mouth.”
“You shut up!” I want to tell him he better get off me—that I’m in charge—but I know Nino ordered this. Besides, who would believe me?
A woman as the head of the Ricci crime organization?
They’re really Belinski’s men anyway. Even if they knew I was in charge, they still wouldn’t listen to me.
Connor’s on the floor, subdued by the other men.
I’m sorry, Connor. I’m so sorry…
As I watch them bind his wrists and ankles with zip ties, my brain bounces back to his confession…his profession of love…and his relocation request.
Move to Los Angeles?
At this precise moment, leaving all this behind sounds pretty tempting. If only I’d said yes sooner. We could’ve leaped off the roof of my second-floor suite and ridden off into the sunset.
Because I hesitated, I now have to watch as my lover’s dragged from the room, bound and bleeding.
I know the moment my brother enters, because I’d recognize those Jimmy Choo lace-up boots anywhere.
He skirts around the bed to tower over me.
“Nino.” I turn my head to peek up at him. With this Russian beast crushing me, it’s the only body part I can move. “Nino, please.”
He bends down, blank-faced, but his show of control doesn’t fool me. This is the calm-before-the-storm phenomenon.
Tears trickle down my temple as my brother smiles and produces a syringe.
Caterina
By the time I wake up, it’s dark, and I’m chained to my four-poster bed. Nino watches me from near my desk.
I’ve spent twenty-six years in the shadows, minding my own business, doing as instructed, and twice in the same month—the first month in what feels like a very long year—I awaken chained up.
What the hell has my life become?
A nasty taste coats my tongue. “Nino.”
Nino cocks his head and spins in the desk chair to address me. “I blame the Irishman.”
With the drugs still polluting my system, my mouth is fuzzy, my mind even fuzzier. All I have left are my words. “I know we want to find Father’s killer. But it’s not Connor, Nino.”
He laughs, cruel and dark. “I know it’s not.” Rising, he cracks his knuckles. “I also blame that bastard for your behavior. You were in line before he got in your pants.”
While the chemicals slowly release their grip on my body, my brain struggles to keep pace. “If you know it’s not Connor, then what are we doing? And why am I restrained?”
“Why do you think?” Nino grabs one of the papers from the will and approaches me, shaking the document in my face. “You were on the verge of mutiny.”
“It’s not like that, Nino.” I struggle to push past the panic sprouting in my chest. “I want what’s best for the family. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. That includes what’s best for you.”
“You’re a liar.” He sneers, his eyes bloodshot. “You just want power. That asshole brainwashed you because you’re weak.”
