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When we entered inside, we shot down more of Angelo’s men until our guns ran out of bullets and we had to take cover.
Me and my brothers hid behind a bloody statue of Mary to refill our guns. More men poured into the foyer, shooting aimlessly at us.
“Any sign of Giselle or Angelo?” Maxim asked, panting.
I shook my head and looked at Vlad. “You?”
He shook his head too. “She’s probably in one of those rooms with Angelo.”
A perfect blend of anger and fear churned in my stomach. I’d seen Angelo once, when we were boys and I’d tried to read him like Giselle would read one of my mother’s books. The asshole was completely psycho, and just as stupid as he was proud.
He wasn’t the kind of guy who would leave Giselle alive and use her as bait to escape. He’d kill her, then he would be foolish enough to confront me, thinking he could kill me too.
“Something isn’t right,” I said, peeking at the Italians shooting at us through a hole in the sculpture. “It’s too quiet in here.”
“You think he could’ve hurt Giselle?”
“If he hasn’t then he’s most likely thinking of it.” I corked my gun. “Can you cover for me? Give the other guys a signal to come in.”
Maxim nodded. “Be careful.”
I peered at my brothers. Careful didn’t exist in my dictionary when my wife and kid were in danger. “Take care of Giselle if anything happens to me. And don’t fucking try to fuck her.”
“I can’t make that promise,” Maxim answered, frowning disapprovingly. “Make it out alive and take care of your wife and kid yourself.”
I nodded, then I dived behind a shelf across the sculpture and began shooting. It took another ten minutes for our men to flood into the building and the three of us had managed on our own. With half of Angelo’s men dead, we outnumbered them now.
Dodging bullets and shooting a few more back, I made my way to the study that had been Giovanni’s this time last year. I reached the door and tried to push it open, but it was locked.
I reeled backward and kicked it. The wooden door creaked open, and I growled at the sight in front of me. Giselle was shoved against a desk and Angelo towered above her, clenching her neck and draining air from her lungs.
Without a second thought, I strode to them and rammed my magazine in his head. The bastard yelped and fell to the ground. I didn’t pay him any attention as I scurried to Giselle and pulled her into my arms.
Her fair skin had paled, and blood covered her face. I glared at Angelo, given the injuries on him, Giselle had given him a fair fight.
I carried my wife down to the sofa and held her against me. “Giselle. Baby. Can you hear me?”
No response.
I slapped her cheeks softly. “Giselle? Baby, open your eyes, please.”
She didn’t. Instead, she lay lifelessly in my arms.
Adrenaline coursed through my veins, my heart picking up a dangerous pace. I placed two fingers on her neck. Luckily, she had a pulse, but it was weak.
Angelo barbed a psychotic laughter and staggered to his feet. “I spent a year waiting for this beautiful scene to play out before me.”
My shoulders heaved with anger. “What the hell have you done?”
“What have I done?” He snorted. “I gave you a present. It was long overdue anyway. You expected something else when you killed my father and sister.”
“She is your sister,” I growled. “How can you hurt family?”
“She’s a Vadim. That makes her as much of my enemy as you and your brothers are.” He glared at Giselle with obvious disgust. “That whore deserves every bit of what she got, and so did her mother.”
Rage coiled in my chest like a thunderstorm. “You killed her mother?”
Angelo let out a burst of sardonic laughter. “Why are you acting so surprised?” He wiped a trail of blood from his face. “This is who we are, man. This is what we do. Loving the dead bitch doesn’t make you better than the rest of us. You’re every bit of a monster as I am.”
