Page 72 of Mafia Love

“Luc, if I die—”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” I cut him off. “I need you. If I die, I need—”

“Lucian, don’t you fucking dare. If you die, I will kill you myself.”

Three goons ran through the door. Claudius and I ended them before they could get fully in. That warned the rest of the guys coming, and bullets sprayed in when they rushed in, coming at us from all directions. Just like at the facility, men came in, rushing in by the droves.

Like a plague.

Ten came. The bullets from The Four took them down, but they were replaced by more guys. Five got to us, and we started fighting.

A bullet from above took down the guy I was kicking.

That came from Max. He sent another bullet from his rifle straight to the head of the guy who was about to shoot Claudius.

More guys came. Fuck, there were so many of them.

Too many. Far too many.

The Four came out fighting and shooting, as did Maurice and Saul. It literally was like war.

Someone grabbed me, and I whirled around to face them. It was Claudius.

“Go!” he yelled. “Go find Amelia. We got this. You need to go.”

I didn’t want to leave him, but he was right. I should go. I realized this could be the last time I saw him. Our lighthearted jokes earlier aside.

I took the ring Raphael gave me off and handed it to him.

He looked at it, then back to me.

“The business is yours, just like I said.” I told him.

“I’ll clean it up,” Claudius promised with a nod.

That surprised the shit out of me, but I didn’t have time to be shocked.

I turned and rushed away, not looking back.

Best not to. Better to face what was ahead of me than look back.

I got to another set of stairs that led to the top, to where I needed to be. To Amelia. God, I hoped she was okay.

I ran up the stairs and turned. That was when I got hit with a sink.

The fucking thing came from nowhere and hit me so hard it knocked me back, sending me back down the steps I’d come.

Shit, my back… it felt broken. Cracked. I didn’t know what the fuck.

The fall winded me, and the pain that rushed through my back nearly made me black out.

I blinked several times and took some deep breaths.

A bullet landed straight in my shoulder, making me scream.

“Fuck.”

“Got ya,” cooed Victor’s voice in that sing-song fashion that irritated me to the core. Then the fucking bastard practically jumped from the ledge he was on and flew down toward me. He carried a sword. Some katana-looking thing that was so sharp it glinted with a sparkle. The lighting from the windows was poor, but I could see that if that thing got me, it would be the end of me.