Page 222 of Anti-Heroes in Love Duet

Click, click.

His shoes against the tiles.

I counted until I thought he would be close enough, the leaves of a bush swaying, displaced from something just a few feet to our right. My breath was calm, a quiet stream through my open mouth.

The guard rounded a massive pot of jasmine, and I shot a single bullet straight through his chest. He fell into the post, then slowly slid to the ground, clutching his torso.

Elena didn’t move or gasp beside me. She watched as I got up slowly and went to the dying man.

“You don’t have to die like this,” I offered him in low, seething Italian. “You can tell me where Rocco Abruzzi is right now, and I can save your life.”

He spat at me, a thick glob that landed on my chin. I wiped it off, then smeared my wet hand over his face despite his struggles.

“No?” I sighed wearily. “Okay.”

I stepped back and leveled my gun at him.

“In the kitchen,” he grunted as blood seeped through the fingers pressed to his wound. “Testa di cazzo.”

“Can’t you see a lady is present?” I asked lightly, then used the butt of my gun across his face.

He crumpled to the ground, out cold.

When I looked over at Elena, her eyes were wide, dark, and silver like the moon in the night sky above us. She wanted me. It was in the panting breath and dilated eyes, in the way she squirmed like she wanted to spread her legs for me right there.

“Later,bella,” I promised as I took her hand and led her to the door.

We moved silently into the house, only crossing one guard as we went down a set of stairs and rounded the corner onto the level with Rocco’s office. I took him down in a chokehold. When Elena moved past him, she carefully placed his errant hand on his chest so she didn’t step on it.

How she could make me laugh at a time like that was beyond my comprehension.

Voices in the office alerted us that Rocco had company. I gestured for Elena to approach carefully then wait by the door.

“Listen, you asshole,” he was spitting in rapid-fire Italian. “I’m only working with your Sicilian ass because we both have a common enemy. There’s no way I’m going to do a single fucking favor for you beyond this. And if this is the way you treat an associate, I gotta say, I’m surprised you’re still in business.”

There was silence as Rocco listened to whoever he spoke to on the phone. My gut tightened as I wondered who the fuck he was talking to.

“I’ll get him, you piece of shit,” Rocco shouted, slamming his fist against a surface. “You’re speaking to a Don from your fucking homeland. Treat me with respect. Oh?” He paused, his breath heavy with anger. “Well, fuck you! You can forget my number. Dante Salvatore will be dead within twenty-four hours and when he is, I expect you to keep your end of the deal. Get out ofCampaniaand go back to your godforsaken island, uh?”

The phone was slammed down, and Rocco cursed under his breath in Italian.

I raised a finger to my mouth and signaled for Elena to remain where she was before I pushed Rocco’s door open and entered with my gun raised.

“Rocky,” I said in my most American English. “Who the fuck you talking to in here?”

Rocco sat behind his palatial desk with his head in his hands. The moment he heard my voice, he froze in the act of rubbing his tired face and dropped his palms to the tabletop. One tried to drop farther, probably to reach a gun secured beneath the desk.

“Ah, ah,” I chastised. “Hands up, Rocco.”

“This is a mistake, Salvatore,” he warned. “You don’t want to do this.”

“Oh?” I cocked the gun and leveled it straight between his eyes. “I think I do.”

“You want to leave the Camorra crippled, huh? It’ll hurt your own business in America, you do that.”

“Every dictator thinks the world will fall apart without their rule.” I smile ruefully. “It is the bane of all powerful men to realize that one day, they won’t be needed any longer. Today is that day for you.”

“I have men who will come as soon as I scream,” he tried.