Page 57 of The Red Queen

She slid an arm underneath him and braced herself to help him stand.

“Took you long enough to get out here and check on me,” he grumbled.

“I knew you were wearing the vest,” she replied, helping him lean against the wall. She yanked his shirt from his trousers and lifted it to make sure the bullet hadn’t hit his flesh. She’d seen the bulk of a bulletproof vest earlier. He rarely wore a vest when he shadowed her, and she’d asked him about it. He’d told her mafia weddings could turn bad and he’d wanted to be prepared. “Besides, I don’t think you understand how this bodyguard thing works. You’re supposed to rescue me.”

He clutched the right side of his ribs under his chest.

“Hey, I took a bullet for you,” he pointed out. “Besides, you handled yourself fine.”

She glanced back into the bedroom and sighed. Antonio was trying to climb to his feet.

Desi stalked back into the room, striding up to Antonio. “This is for my bodyguard.” She threw her fist into his face, sending him back to the carpet. She smirked when she realized she’d broken his nose again.

“You need to stop coming after me, Antonio,” she said calmly. “I don’t think you can handle much more.”

Vitto chuckled and painfully re-tucked his shirt. His eyes caught on the blood streaking down her skirt.

“You were hit.”

She shook her head. “It’s nothing.”

He continued to look as though he was going to stop her from walking down the aisle until she got medical attention.

“Seriously, Vitto,” she pleaded. “It’s just a flesh wound. Through and through. I’ve had paper cuts worse than this.”

He still looked skeptical.

She gripped his arm and looked up at him. “I want nothing more in the world than to marry your boss. Help me get there and then you can do whatever you think needs doing.”

Finally, he nodded. “Okay, but if the Signore kills me for this, you will have to explain to my mother.”

She laughed. It felt good.

Maybe Antonio’s attack wasn’t such a bad thing. She’d been plagued with self-doubt all day. Now she was filled with purpose.

“Take me to the altar.”

He took her arm and led her from the room, down the hallway toward the stairs.

“You want to lose the weapons before we arrive?”

She looked down at her hands. The gun was clutched in one hand, the butcher knife in the other. Spots of blood dotted the back of her right hand. Hers or Antonio’s she didn’t know.

“No.”

Vitto said nothing, allowing her to keep her weapons.

She only needed them for a few minutes more.

Desi spotted her prey hovering at the bottom of the stairs.

The woman stared at Desi like she was seeing a ghost. She didn’t have the good sense to run. She was either too shocked or too stupid to think Desi had worked out who let Antonio onto the estate and then kept the rest of the staff away while he climbed to the top floor of the house.

“Let me go,” she instructed Vitto, and he immediately released her arm.

Too late, Mrs. Capelli saw the shadow of death descending toward her. She tried to run, but Desi grabbed her arm and viciously threw her into the wall. Before Mrs. Capelli could run, Desi pushed the butcher knife against her throat and held the gun to her head.

“Desiree!” the other woman gasped.

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