Page 108 of Lorenzo

“But —

“Do not disobey me.”

I slow the car and swerve into a tall line of trees.

At the same time, I see Dante’s helicopter hover close to the grounds.

Two of his men jump out, guns in hand.

“Like I said, stay here,” I say, running to join them.

CHAPTER 47

LORENZO

Icrouch in the tall grass, its cold dampness seeping through my jeans.

In the last dozen years, I’ve been on more rescue missions than I care to remember.

I went in, did what was necessary, and came out alive every time.

So why is my gut in turmoil?

Because of Emily.

Because her kid brother’s life is at stake.

If I fuck up and Teddy dies, I’ll never be able to live with myself.

But we’re in good shape. Dante’s brought three of our finest men, including our best soldier, Agosti.

Taking a deep breath, I check the room through the half-open window, then slip inside and drop silently onto the hardwood floor.

From the far room above, a boy cries.

Teddy.

His exhausted, shuddering sobs cut through the silence of the house.

I press my back against the wall, closing my eyes for a single heartbeat as the raw panic of it threatens to choke my focus.

Hold it together, Ricci.

Steeling my grip on my weapon, I move up the staircase, staying close to the wall.

From my vantage point on the landing, the doorway to the upper study is cracked wide.

Inside sits Emily’s uncle, Eton. He is not handcuffed. He is not bloodied like the gruesome warnings the Russians love to leave behind.

He lifts a cut-crystal glass of scotch to his lips.

Eton isn’t a hostage.

From the comfort of his chair, it looks as though he brokered a deal.

The bastard.

The realization hits me like a physical blow.