Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
“It’s you or me—and I’m not sure which one you should pick.”
Draven took the phone from his guy. “Come to Alexander’s home in fifteen minutes—or I’ll shoot him in the back of the head. It’s that simple.” He returned the phone to the space between us. “What’s it going to be?”
Theo finally spoke. “He’s got nothing to do with this—”
“Then come,” Draven said simply. “Or make Scarlett into a young widow who will be my personal chef in Paris…in addition to her other duties.”
Now the stakes had just gotten higher—and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. I wanted to beg Theo to come, not for me, but for my wife. But I kept my mouth shut. Even with Scarlett in that safe room, she wouldn’t be protected from Draven forever. I didn’t trust her father to do the job either.
Theo spoke again, his voice gruff with anger. “I’ll be right there.”
I needed that answer but also hated it. “Theo—”
“This is my fault, Axel. You chose to leave, so you shouldn’t have to suffer because of my greed.”
“You know he’s probably going to kill me anyway.”
Theo asked. “Hopefully not. But if he does, at least we go together.”
Draven hit the button and ended the call. “That was touching—”
An explosion sounded outside, so loud it felt like we were in a war zone and a bomb had just gone off. It was so strong that the floor trembled beneath my feet, and I nearly fell over sideways.
Draven kept his cool as he turned toward the double doors while his men were deployed into action. Gunfire was audible a moment later. My guys must have bombed the gate to get through, and now they were taking down the enemy.
I felt a rush of pride.
Draven pulled out his pistol and pointed it at me, his stare suddenly vicious like he was a butcher with a knife and I was the lamb next up for slaughter. He stepped toward me, the gun steady in his hand, and then he grabbed me by the arm. “You think you’re going anywhere.” He shoved me forward so he could stand behind me, the gun pointed at my back. “When they get in here, you’re going to order them to stand down.”
I turned around to look at him. “After the threat you just made about my wife, I’d rather die. So, shoot me. I don’t care, because they’re going to shoot you, and that’s all that matters.”
He cocked the gun and gave a smirk. “Then maybe I will.”
The sounds grew louder, like the threat was right outside the door and about to push in.
He raised the gun a little higher and steadied it on my face.
My heart raced with the uncertainty. I assumed the men would break through that door and take him out. Scarlett would be fine. But without actually seeing it with my own eyes, I would never know. But that was what I had to believe would happen if I were to die right there.
His fingers tightened over the trigger, and it looked like he was about to squeeze.
But then a bullet struck him from behind, hitting him in the back of his shoulder, and as he squeezed the trigger, the bullet missed me and hit the wall.
He grimaced before he gripped his shoulder then spun around to face his assailant.
It was Scarlett.
She stood there, her gun shaking in her hand, a little blood on her from the wound. “Drop your gun.”
“You fucking cunt.” He raised his gun, and I knew he wouldn’t hesitate to shoot her.
“Baby, run!” I launched myself onto his back, knocking him clear to the floor and making his head slam into the marble. Without hands, I was almost useless, so it was quite the physical feat to roll over and kick the gun just out of his reach.
The doors popped open, and more gunfire ensued.
“Get down!” I yelled.
Scarlett dropped to the floor.
Draven moved for me and grabbed me by the neck, choking me hard before he threw his fist into my face. He hit me so hard, he broke my nose on the first punch. “I will relish this moment as I fuck your wife—”
I slammed my head into his face, stunning him for just a second.
Scarlett must have had her gun again, because a gun fired nearby, but it missed its target.
Then Draven was thrown off me, a heavy body coming to knock him flat onto his back.
Draven reacted quickly and punched his assailant. He moved fast, fighting like he had experience in the ring. He threw a punch and then a kick, knocking the gun from the other man’s hand before kicking him in the face.
I realized it was Scarlett’s father.
The two men went at it, neither having a weapon, both fighting with their fists and nothing else.