Page 100 of Vows of Blood

Gritting my teeth, I fight back the urge to shoot him just for talking shit. Who knew an assassin in love would be so dramatic?

"Just shut the fuck up and come with me," I say, waving my gun toward my office before going to Sienna and taking her hand in mine, gently encouraging her to her feet.

Her wide eyes meet mine, begging me to get her out of here and away from this man.

“I’m not helping him, Luca. I can’t…” Her hands are shaking, and her eyes fill with tears as she implores me not to force her to be near him. But he needs to understand, and so does she. It's time.

"There’s something you both need to see."

31

SIENNA

Idon't understand what's happening. Why didn't Luca leave Enzo to deal with this man and whisk me away?

One moment, I was certain I was going to die, and the next, relief like nothing I’ve felt before as Luca appeared just in time to save me.

But now, betrayal and confusion fill me as Luca leads the man who tried to kill me through the house, albeit still pointing a gun at him.

“Luca…” I squeeze his hand as he pulls me along, his hold strong, not allowing me to back away.

Mikhail limps heavily ahead of us, leaving a trail of blood behind him, but Luca doesn't seem concerned about the mess. He doesn't seem concerned about anything except getting us to his office.

I follow along because I don't know what else to do, and even though I have no idea what is going on, I feel safest close to Luca. My legs are shaking, my feet are numb, and every few seconds, I have to remind myself to breathe. The adrenaline is still coursing through me, making everything feel sharp and distant at the same time.

I feel strange. Detached. Like I’m floating, watching from above, curious what Luca needs to show us so badly, but also, distantly wondering why I’m not running screaming for the hills and telling Luca the deal is off.

But as I cling to his hand, I’m struck by the realization that the only person I want to run to is him.

Luca's office is at the back of the house, and as we file inside, he guides Mikhail to a chair, and the Russian collapses into it, his face gray with pain and continued blood loss. Luca snatches a tie from a drawer and flings it at him. The Russian snatches it mid air and sets about tying it tightly around his thigh, above the wound.

Luca retrieves cable ties from the bottom drawer of his desk and fastens Mikhail's ankles together. As he stands, he grips Mikhail's leg, pressing his thumb hard into the wound, smiling through gritted teeth as the Russian roars in pain, face clammy and pale.

"I'm giving you a fucking chance, Mikhail, but I am not fucking happy about doing it. Give me an excuse, one fucking reason, and I'll happily change my mind for what you did to my woman."

I stare at Luca, bottom lip wobbling, still not comprehending what’s happening. Lingering as near to the exit as I can, I tug on Luca’s hand as he tries to draw me further inside. I trust him, I’m sure he’ll keep me safe, but asking me to be in the same room as this man is a lot.

“I don’t know…” Shaking my head, my feet stick to the floor, refusing to move, but I relent, slowly shuffling closer as Luca carefully takes my hands in his.

"Sit," Luca says to me, lowering himself into his large, leather office chair, his request uttered gently. “Please.”

He pats his knee, and numbly, I step between his thick thighs and lower myself to sit on his leg. I'm not sure I could stand much longer anyway.

Immediately, Luca pulls me closer and wraps one arm around my waist, the other, still holding the gun, resting casually on his desk. He presses a kiss to my shoulder. "This will only take a moment."

Mikhail watches us closer, even as he keeps his head down, pretending his focus is entirely on his damaged leg. With a renewed hatred, he twists to glare at Luca.

“So what now?” The Russian laughs bitterly. “You want me to beg for my life? I know you’re not a man of mercy. Crying and pleading will do me no good.” His eyes drift around the room, landing briefly on a pen resting on Luca’s table, and the lamp on a shelf to his left.

“Maybe,” Luca concedes.

I tense, wishing Enzo had fought harder to stay behind. This man gives me the creeps. I’m pretty sure he could kill someone with just about every object in this room.

Luca flips open his laptop and types rapidly, as though he’s oblivious to the turn Mikhail’s thoughts have taken once more. Violence.

“If you’d answered your damn phone, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

Mikhail surges to his feet, a metal statue now gripped in his hand, but Luca snatches up the gun faster than I thought humanly possible and aims it straight at Mikhail’s head, standing with me still gathered to him by one arm.