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His expression falters with a second—a goddamn second before his face hardens. “We don’t know if it’s my baby yet.”
“Does it matter? Isn’t that why you’re here? To take me and find out for yourself?”
He narrows his eyes, his gaze flickering over my face before sliding down to my stomach.
“You want to know if I’m carrying the future Ferrero heir.” I try to infuse as much confidence in my voice as I can muster, thinking I might buy some time for Nicoli or Maximo to get here if I stall. “And if I am, what then?”
He moves away from the front window, leaning down to look at me through the driver’s side. “Then that child belongs to me. And so do you, birdie.” The smirk that curls at the edges of his mouth is enough to make me sick to my stomach. He considers me for a moment, our eyes locked. I refuse to look away, to cower. His presence might invoke fear in me, but my will to remain strong is far greater.
Hard lines of anger start to take over his expression, his dark brows creasing inward. “Get out of the fucking car!” he screams. He screams so loud I can feel every syllable rip through my eardrums, and my stomach drops so violently my bladder contracts as if it wants to empty itself. But I will not be intimidated. Not by him. Not again. And even though every instinct in me is shouting that I look away, I don’t. I won’t.
Screeching tires startle us both, and Nunzio jerks his head to the side, my gaze following out the back window, sharp headlights heading straight toward us.
Nicoli.
Relief swooshes through me, but it’s short-lived as I realize that hell is about to break loose, and Nicoli is going to get himself caught in the middle of it.
Nunzio barks out orders, running in the other direction. But it’s so fucking dark, I can’t see farther than a few feet away from the car.
The SUV comes to a stop, smoke bleeding from the tires and in the path of the headlights. Gunshots start going off like thunder, and I clap my palms over my ears, trying to push out the noise. My heart can’t take it. I’m paralyzed by the fear that Nicoli might get hurt. How could he not? It’s raining bullets, and it’s happening so fast, in such a blur, I have no idea what the hell is going on.
My breath compresses in my throat as my chest rises and falls rapidly, panic clawing so deep into my lungs that I’m sure I’ll suffocate.
More gunshots and more screams.
My eyes dart around frantically as I hold my palms tight over my ears. Where is he? Where is Nicoli?
“Nicoli!” My voice is shrill and fills the air, but no one can hear me. “Nicoli!”
Abruptly, the shooting stops, and Nicoli’s voice shatters the eerie silence as he screams my name. “Mira!”
“Nicoli,” I say, panicked. “I’m here.” I move to the back seat, leaning closer to the rear window to try and see through the dark, to see if he’s okay. That’s when I hear it again…thetap tap tapagainst the passenger window. Cold dread slithers down my spine, knotting in my stomach as I slowly turn. Tears break free, sliding down my cheeks when I see him…Nicoli, standing by the window…with Nunzio’s gun against his head.
“No.” The word leaves my fucking soul, and I realize I’ve never felt fear before now. All those times I’ve been scared before don’t compare to what I’m feeling right now.
“Don’t hurt him,” I whimper, my voice breaking as dread fills my lungs. “Please don’t hurt him.”
“Then get out of the fucking car,” Nunzio spits out, pressing the barrel of his gun deeper into Nicoli’s temple, two of his men taking position behind him.
There’s no hesitation on my part. There is nothing to think about. Nothing to assess or analyze. I’ll do whatever the hell he says to stop the worst from happening.
“Fine,” I say, sliding closer to the door and wrapping my fingers around the handle. “I’ll get out.” I unlock the door, the sound almost as threatening as a gunshot.
Nicoli shakes his head at me, his top lip curled in a snarl. “Mira, run. Don’t listen to him.” But I don’t have a choice. I’ve never had a choice when it comes to him. I didn’t choose to love him. I just do. I didn’t choose to have this bond with him. It just happened. And just like now, I don’t choose to save him. I have to.
A gust of icy air claws through me as I open the door, sinking deep into my marrow like icicles, but it’s not the cold that sends shivers up my spine. It’s him. The man whose face represents the most bottomless pits of Hell. The man who my hate gravitates to like a magnet. It courses through me like poison, burning hotter than his blade parting my skin.
“Mira, no,” Nicoli bites out, but Nunzio tightens his grip on Nicoli’s arms behind his back, pressing the gun harder against his face.
Nunzio sucks air through his teeth as I straighten out of the car. “Jesus, birdie. You’re even hotter than I remember.”
“You motherfucker!” Nicoli thrashes.
“Nah-ah,” Nunzio warns. “I won’t just kill you, Del Rossa.” He looks at one of his men standing a few feet away, his gun aimed at me. “Picture this scenario,” Nunzio starts. “Let’s say you can overpower me here, fight me and get your hands on my gun, your little wife here will be dead by then. You think you can manage to get control over this situation faster than a bullet can blow your wife’s goddamn brains out?”
“You won’t kill her.” Nicoli’s nostrils flare, his chest rising and falling rapidly. His anger, the rage, it’s palpable. “She’s pregnant, and you won’t hurt her until you know who the father is.”
“If you, by some miracle, happen to put a bullet in my head tonight, it won’t fucking matter whether she’s carrying my child or not. So I dare you, Nicoli. Try me. See if I’m fucking bluffing.”
