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While we were busy trying to negotiate, Lucian was ringing us in. And now, we’re sitting ducks. In one ugly, horrifyingmoment, it becomes clear that the Italians could actually win this fight.
33
LANCE
The raucous barrage of bullets hitting metal, rock, and cement makes my ears ring, and I grind my teeth as more than one missile comes dangerously close to my body. My odds of being hit are getting higher by the minute as Sokolov and King men drop, narrowing the Agosti men’s range of targets.
And while I mow down half a dozen snipers on the roof in less than a minute, they quickly learn to duck for cover—as do the men hiding just out of range along the perimeter of the compound.
“We’re losing too many men!” Tatiana calls.
“We can hold a bit longer!” Killian bellows back.
But even Lucian is retreating back into the safety of his home, dragging Natasha with him as the cross-firing bullets come dangerously close to hitting them. Releasing a string of cusses, I take my chances, aiming carefully at Lucian’s Italian leather dress shoes to stop him from taking her out of sight.
The target’s too small, though, and he keeps jostling Natasha, making her stumble backward and into my line of fire. Cussing, Iredirect my aim, mowing down several of the guards to the right of the front door.
That stalls Lucian as he flinches sideways, instinctively avoiding the onslaught.
“He’s taking her!” I call a warning.
“Cease fire! Duck for cover!” Tatiana yells.
And as one, Sokolov and King men all obey her order.
I do as well, slipping back into the front seat of the Escalade, and I stare at the pockmarked windshield of the once pristine car. There will be no explaining that to a cop if we get pulled over. Not without a fat stack of cash to smooth the story over.
Panting in the back seat, Tatiana and Killian share a look that I catch in the rearview mirror.
“He was waiting for us,” Tatiana observes, stating the elephant in the room.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if this was his plan from the start. Damn it! He knows us too well.” Killian punches the ceiling of the car, releasing his frustration on the inanimate object.
“He’s had his sights set on my father’s empire for a long time,” Tatiana breathes, letting her head fall back against the headrest. He won’t stop until he’s crushed us.
“Or you hand it over to him,” Killian agrees grimly.
Tension crackles in the air, and I wonder just what Tatiana might be thinking. Her sharp blue eyes are inscrutable as she looks out the shattered windshield toward the entrance of Lucian’s home. Deep in the shadows, I can just make out two figures—most likely the Italian don with his hostage.
“I don’t know that Natasha will let me,” she murmurs. “I’m worried she’s going to force his hand if I can’t break her out of there.”
“Don’t say that,” Killian growls.
Silence stretches between them, and I glance back at the formidable pair of leaders once more. We’re the only three leftalive in this car, and I can feel Killian’s desperation humming in the air. How Lucian brought us to this point, I don’t understand. I’d like to consider us a force to be reckoned with. But it feels like Lucian’s using us as child’s play right now.
“He’s coming back out,” I state flatly, watching as the Italian don steers Natasha back onto the front terrace.
From reading her lips, I’m pretty sure she just called him an impressively vulgar expletive. Then again, I suppose she could be speaking in Russian. From the look on her face, I would wager it’s the former.
Tatiana sighs. “Let me handle him,” she says. Then her piercing blue eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror. “If this all goes horribly south, I’m going to agree to his terms and hand over my power.Ifthat happens, I need you to do something for me.”
“Anything,” I say.
“Shoot my sister.”
“What?” Killian and I echo each other’s disbelief in perfect stereo.
“You better have good aim, Knight. And you better shoot her somewhere that won’t kill or permanently injure her. But it’s the only way to ensure she doesn’t do anything stupid.”