Page 118 of Sinfully Savage Mafia

Panic, sheer, debilitating panic, beats its sharp wings against my thin control. Dominguez isn’t going to kill her. He wants her for another reason. And his men haven’t shot her. They’re being deliberate in their attempt to keep her captive with their gunfire.

What would I do if I were them?

My brain works overtime, each second that passes reminding me that I need to act.

I take a deep breath, and thank fuck, it brings me clarity.

I’d unnerve my target. I’d then go for fear and keep the target and others at bay with careful hails of bullets.

Exactly like they’re doing.

But these fuckers are moving in.

Shit. They’re clearing the area, advancing toward Heaven. They’re going to grab her, and if they try…fuck, she needs to move.

Now.

“Get the fuck inside, Heaven!” I yell the words, and her head turns just as a bullet almost hits her and she spins away, hitting pavement.

There’s an overturned table by the door where her aunt cowers. It’s a nice day, cloudless, so they’ve set up for outdoor dining and drinking.

Sergio and Roman aren’t obeying my orders. They’re right here with me. They have my back, because otherwise…

No. I won’t even think it.

I’m no use dead.

“I’m okay. Get a fucking gun if you have another, Romo.”

“Yeah.” He leans against my now bullet-ridden car and he closes his eyes. “It’s getting fucking hot.”

Sirens pierce the air. They’re louder but they’re not close enough and I’m not relying on the NYPD to come save any asses. They’ll all be dead by the time the cops turn up because Dominguez has brought in the big guns.

He’s going to have more people covering the area than the ones we can see.

Get the girl at all costs and keep the family—and me—from stopping them.

That would have been his order.

Then Roman moves, diving into the side of the car, narrowly escaping a bullet as he grabs another gun.

“Wait, wait, wait,” I say to myself as Sergio checks his clip, getting ready to shoot when he has to.

They’re moving in.

And the goal is to save my wife.

I can’t stop the thought from looping through my mind.

Because there has to be a way.

The fucking slime bag wants her. He also wants Conor fucking dusted, but since I don’t see him, that’s good. I don’t need another reason for them to spray more bullets in her direction.

Dominguez’s people are organized but bloodthirsty.

And trigger happy.

That’s obvious.

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