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Mama casts one sad look at me, and I know she can tell I had another run-in with Danillo. I’m sure she knew it was going to happen before she left the room.
We make our way over to our parents.
Grinning from ear to ear, Papa meets us halfway. His grey moustache lifts as he smiles wider and spreads his arms out on either side, the gesture of a man who has the world at his fingertips.
“My beautiful daughter and my future son-in-law,” Papa announces in a loud, proud voice. “What a wonderful sight.”
Everyone cheers again. Papa waits for the room to quiet, then lifts his chin.
“My esteemed guests, I—”
The sudden crack of gunshots rips into his voice. The piercing sound echoes through the hall. For a moment, I think it’s coming from inside here, then I realize it’s outside. At the front of the house.
Men shout from beyond the walls, and more gunshots fire in rapid succession. Within seconds, it becomes clear that we’re under attack.
Mama is at my side before I can even blink, arms thrown around me, protecting me. Then Papa and every armed man in the room reach for their weapons. The door Danillo and I just came through crashes open with a loud smash. Seconds later, men I’ve never seen before storm in. All of them carry machine guns.
Every cell in my body freezes in terror and my brain short-circuits. I can’t even make my lungs work to breathe.
“Vsem stoyat’!” booms a deep, commanding voice.
A man. A man who must be in charge of this invasion.
And Russian. He spoke Russian. I don’t understand the language completely but enough to recognize it for what it is.
The intruding soldiers divide into two lines, unfurling to create a path. Their precision is almost theatrical. Once the path is made, a giant of a man appears.
Like the soldiers, he’s dressed in full black. The outline of thick muscles defines his wide shoulders and arms. At his side is a Glock, waiting to be used.
His neatly styled black hair and trimmed beard make him look like a businessman. Like one of Papa’s lawyers. Except this man is anything but.
The raw, rough-around-the-edges manner of the rest of him and the bold tattoos visible on his neck and fingers scream hardcore mafia man. The kind of man who wouldn’t hesitate to kill you if you looked at him the wrong way. And yet… there’s an untamed beauty about him, a sliver of something artistic lurking beneath the cold, callous exterior.
What the hell, Allegra? What on earth am I thinking? Untamed beauty? Artistic?
Seriously?
He could kill us all in the next few seconds, right where we stand. Finding this devil remotely attractive is sickening and downright shameful.
With his back straight and a devilish smirk on his face, he walks between the soldiers, coming straight toward us.
His piercing blue eyes are fixed on Papa.
I wait for something to happen. More gunfire. A full-on shootout. Shouting. Screaming. Anything.
None of those happen, but I suddenly realize why. My father’s men won’t do anything until we’re all out of harm’s way, and the intruders…
They want something.
The man in charge wants something. Or we’d all be dead already.
“Seal off the entrances. No one leaves unless I say so,” the man orders in his distinct Russian accent. Then his gaze moves from Papa and rests on me.
Raw fear courses through my soul, and I get the feeling that this is just the beginning of my terror.
Chapter
Two
