Page 109
Story: A Bossy Proposal
Finally, I spot headlights cutting through the darkness.
“They’re here,” I murmur to Amelia, squeezing her hand.
A car screeches to a halt beside the helicopter, and Callum jumps out, gun already drawn. Jackson is behind the wheel, eyes alert.
“Boss. Miss Amelia. Quick,” Callum urges as he reaches us, ushering us toward the car.
“Quick.” Callum’s voice heightens as he helps Amelia into the backseat.
But the roar of another engine shatters the night. A blacked-out Range Rover tears around the corner, tires squealing.
My heart leaps. “Luca?” I wonder aloud.
But as the vehicle draws closer, dread settles in my gut.
“Vincenzo,” I breathe, the name tasting like poison in my mouth.
Callum’s reaction is instantaneous. He whips around, gun raised, positioning himself between us and the approaching threat.
“Get in the car, sir!” he shouts, his voice tight with urgency.
I hesitate, torn between self-preservation and not wanting to leave Callum exposed. “You first,” I insist, pushing him towards the open door. “Protect her. Give me the gun.”
Callum’s eyes flash with steely determination. “Get in the car, sir.”
He shoves me hard, sending me stumbling into the backseat, as a gunshot cracks through the air.
Pain explodes in my shoulder as I tumble into the car.
Another gunshot.
Callum cries out, clutching his arm as he falls against me.
“West!” Amelia screams. Her hands frantically pulling at my shirt, revealing the growing red stain.
“Get in, Callum, and shut the fucking door!” Jackson yells.
The door slams as another car screeches onto the scene, and a hail of bullets pepper our vehicle.
Amelia gasps as the windshield spiderwebs but holds.
Thank God for bulletproofing.
“Drive!” I yell at Jackson, gritting my teeth against the pain.
“You okay?” I ask Callum.
His palm is pressed on his arm. “Just a flesh wound.”
Amelia’s face is pale, her eyes wide with panic as she presses her hands against my wound. “Oh God, West, you’re bleeding so much,” she chokes out, tears streaming down her face. “We need to go to the hospital.”
“He’s losing…”
I blink. My eyelids are too heavy.
I strain to open my eyes again and see my bride.
Then my world goes black.
“They’re here,” I murmur to Amelia, squeezing her hand.
A car screeches to a halt beside the helicopter, and Callum jumps out, gun already drawn. Jackson is behind the wheel, eyes alert.
“Boss. Miss Amelia. Quick,” Callum urges as he reaches us, ushering us toward the car.
“Quick.” Callum’s voice heightens as he helps Amelia into the backseat.
But the roar of another engine shatters the night. A blacked-out Range Rover tears around the corner, tires squealing.
My heart leaps. “Luca?” I wonder aloud.
But as the vehicle draws closer, dread settles in my gut.
“Vincenzo,” I breathe, the name tasting like poison in my mouth.
Callum’s reaction is instantaneous. He whips around, gun raised, positioning himself between us and the approaching threat.
“Get in the car, sir!” he shouts, his voice tight with urgency.
I hesitate, torn between self-preservation and not wanting to leave Callum exposed. “You first,” I insist, pushing him towards the open door. “Protect her. Give me the gun.”
Callum’s eyes flash with steely determination. “Get in the car, sir.”
He shoves me hard, sending me stumbling into the backseat, as a gunshot cracks through the air.
Pain explodes in my shoulder as I tumble into the car.
Another gunshot.
Callum cries out, clutching his arm as he falls against me.
“West!” Amelia screams. Her hands frantically pulling at my shirt, revealing the growing red stain.
“Get in, Callum, and shut the fucking door!” Jackson yells.
The door slams as another car screeches onto the scene, and a hail of bullets pepper our vehicle.
Amelia gasps as the windshield spiderwebs but holds.
Thank God for bulletproofing.
“Drive!” I yell at Jackson, gritting my teeth against the pain.
“You okay?” I ask Callum.
His palm is pressed on his arm. “Just a flesh wound.”
Amelia’s face is pale, her eyes wide with panic as she presses her hands against my wound. “Oh God, West, you’re bleeding so much,” she chokes out, tears streaming down her face. “We need to go to the hospital.”
“He’s losing…”
I blink. My eyelids are too heavy.
I strain to open my eyes again and see my bride.
Then my world goes black.
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