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I step through the door of my warehouse, my bodyguards and Edo flanking me with drawn guns. My eyes narrow as I survey the dim interior.
“I have a bad feeling about this,” Edo murmurs, his eyes scanning the perimeter. “It’s too quiet.”
I can’t help but agree. Where are my men? Shouldn’t there be dead bodies littered on the floor?
Suddenly, the rat-tat-tat of machine gun fire erupts from the catwalk above. My men drop in a hail of bullets as Edo and I dive behind a stack of wooden crates.
“It’s a fucking trap!” I roar over the sounds of bullets. I pull out my .38 from my shoulder holster. Edo and I blindly fire back, the gunfire deafening in the enclosed space.
“Go left!” Edo shouts as he rolls out from behind the crate and kneels on one knee, firing his gun multiple times.
Gritting my teeth, I dart out from my hiding spot to another one, quickly firing off a round. I can see several people fall from my aim, and I grin in satisfaction.
This has to be Invicta. There’s no one else who would be stupid enough to start a gunfight with me.
I reload my gun and pop up again, pressing the trigger multiple times as bullets whiz past me. Bam, bam, bam. More Invicta soldiers go down.
A searing pain tears through me and I grimace, clutching the bleeding wound. Blood pours around my fingers and I sway on the spot. I’m hit with another searing pain and I collapse on the cement ground, staring up at the ceiling. The pain is indescribable, and the edges of my vision grow fuzzy.
This is what it must be like to die, I think before the world goes black.
8
ALEXIS
Once Damian and the other man—Edo, I think—rush out of the room, Nat kicks the bed in anger and I shrink back, worried she will turn that fury on me.
“Fucking Damian!” she snaps. “He named me as his underboss but still treats me like a goddamn babysitter! I’m going to fucking kill him. If he tries to pull this shit again, I’m going to drown him.”
Although I’m scared, curiosity is the dominating emotion. Nat is the first woman I’ve seen so far, and I want to know a little more about her. Maybe she would be able to help me? Something in me tells me I wouldn’t get very far if I tried to escape again. Nat is all lean muscle with not an inch of fat on her.
“Who are you?” I finally ask, wincing as Nat whirls around to glare at me, her brown eyes narrowing. “Where am I? Why are you keeping me here?”
Maybe I’ll get more answers out of her than Damian.
Nat cocks her head to the side, black hair spilling across her neck. “What’s it to you?” she asks rudely.
I do my best to not apologize as I don’t think Nat would appreciate that.
“I–I just want to know what’s going on,” I admit. “I know next to nothing other than Damian’s name and that I’m at his house.”
“Well, then one of your questions has already been answered,” Nat snaps. She suddenly shivers as she stands by the open window, the rope ladder still hanging on the window sill. As she goes to shut the window, she pauses and fingers the rope. Spinning around, she scans the room, taking in the disheveled bed and open dresser drawers.
Nat snatches the rope ladder and closes the window before turning to me. She points to the rope. “Did you do this?”
I quickly nod, unable to speak. She intimidates me more than Damian does. There’s something about the way she walks and speaks that exudes power and confidence.
Nat looks mildly impressed and she pulls on the rope. “Nice work. You did an excellent job with the weaver’s knot, especially under pressure.”
Is… is she complimenting me?
Nat studies me again, as if seeing me in a new light. I feel like her gaze pierces through my soul and that she can somehow read my mind.
“I’m Nat,” she finally says. “It’s short for Natalia, but no one calls me that unless they want to die a painful death.”
I don’t think that’s a joke.
“Damian’s already told you where you are, so I’m not going to repeat myself. And why are you here? Well, that’s something you need to tell us.”
