Page 55

"I'm not planning to make a run for it, if that's what you're worried about," she says, her voice muted. "Where would I even go?"
I don't answer that. Instead I exit the car, scanning our surroundings efficiently. No suspicious vehicles. No one lingering too long. Just the usual bored cashier visible through the window.
Melania steps out, still wearing my oversized shirt, her hair pulled into a tight ponytail. Even disheveled and tired, she commands attention—the kind that's dangerous in our situation.
"Head down," I say.
We move in tandem toward the convenience store entrance. I'm hyperaware of every movement around us—the truck driver filling up two pumps over, the flickering fluorescent lights, the security camera with its tell-tale blind spot near the corner of the building.
"I'll be right outside," I tell her as we reach the women's restroom door.
She nods, slipping inside while I position myself against the wall, one hand resting near my concealed weapon. My eyes never stop moving, cataloging every detail of our locale, identifying threats and escape routes by instinct.
I don't feel anyone watching us but that means nothing. Raymond's resources are extensive and Antonio's reach is legendary. The sooner we finish this stop and get back on the road, the better.
She emerges from the bathroom and I guide her into the store, holding her hand. The fluorescent lights buzz overhead, casting harsh shadows across the cramped aisles. My eyes scan each corner, each reflective surface, cataloging potential threats.
"Get whatever you need quickly," I murmur, speaking low enough that only she can hear. "Just to cover your hunger, we are going to eat later."
Melania nods, moving toward a display of protein bars. I stay close, maintaining a protective position while appearing casual to anyone watching. The store is nearly empty—just us, a cashier thumbing through her phone, and a man browsing magazines near the front.
We're scanning the drink options when a commotion erupts at the register.
"Empty the fucking register! Now!" A man's voice, hard and desperate.
I instantly still, my hand moving to the weapon concealed at my waistband. Fuck. Not what we need right now.
"Alessio—" Melania whispers, her eyes wide.
"Stay behind me," I order, already calculating our exit strategy. We need to leave. Now.
The sound of heavy footsteps is my only warning before pain explodes across my abdomen. A man appears from the back aisle, driving his fist into my stomach. I manage to shove Melania away from us before the attacker can grab her.
"Run!" I growl, drawing my gun in one fluid motion.
The attacker lunges again. I sidestep and fire, the sound deafening in the confined space. He drops, blood blooming across his chest.
Melania runs to me and I grab her arm, pulling her close. "Stay with me."
The shelving blocks our view of the front counter but I hear the first man shouting, panic edging his voice. We need to move. The cashier's terrified whimpers cut through the bedlam.
I edge forward, keeping Melania behind me. Through a gap in the shelves I spot him—gun pressed against the cashier's temple.
"Please," the woman sobs. "I have kids."
I don't hesitate. One clean shot and he crumples, his weapon clattering to the floor.
"Down," I command Melania, pushing her toward the floor. "Crawl to the counter."
She drops to her knees without question, moving quickly beneath the cashier's desk. I follow, positioning myself between her and the fallen gunman, retrieving his weapon.
"Stay here," I tell her, my voice hard. "I need to check the back."
The store's too quiet. These idiots weren't working alone.
I rise slightly, scanning the rear of the store. Storage room door ajar. Movement inside.
"Alessio!" Melania's scream tears through the air.