Page 139 of Ruthless Redemption

I raise a hand to my neck, the betrayal tightening my throat. “Matthew will be devastated. He won’t forgive you.”

“He’s a smart man.” He lowers the mug to the counter. “I doubt he will be surprised. But I strongly advise you to keep this to yourself. It can be our little secret.”

I hear the threat. I don’t see it through his kind eyes and gentle smile, but it’s definitely hidden in his words. Even the birds seem to hear it, their siren call squawking louder from outside, the cacophony growing as if they sense the rising hostility.

“I take your silence as judgment, Layla, but I assure you my heart has always been in the right place where Matthew is concerned. He means more to me than my own children, and I’ve never shied away from that admission. What I’ve done for him has been out of protection and love.”

“But what you did went behind his back. It was without his consent.”

“And sometimes it’s better to ask for forgiveness than beg for permission.”

The doorbell rings, the loud chime startling me.

“More unexpected visitors?” Lorenzo frowns, his gaze trekking to the hall. “Is that Bishop?”

“It shouldn’t be. He was on his way to Denver.”

“Maybe he sensed the hostility and changed his mind.”

Fast footsteps shuffle nearby. I assume Maria is on her way to open the door.

“Should I be worried?” My nerves are on edge.

“No. Cars can’t enter without a code or approval from the guards on patrol.” Lorenzo pulls his cell from his suit pocket, along with a pair of spectacles. “These damn security apps will be the death of me. Too many notifications and not enough peace.” He starts for the entry. “Excuse me,bella. I’ll be back in a moment.”

I saunter back toward the wall of glass as he leaves the room, dragging my fingers over the gun on the table while I pass, needing a touch of confidence. Outside, Matthew stands tall, his shoulders tense.

I wish I knew what he was saying. How he was feeling.

Aggressive conversation carries from the front door and I cock my head to the hall to listen. Lorenzo admonishes someone in Italian, his vehemence raising the hair on the back of my neck.

The birds caw and crow over their owner’s voice. The cacophony grows louder. Screeching higher.

I start toward the hall, curious to hear more clearly when a piercing scream ricochets through the house.

I freeze. Panic.

A muted blast pummels my ears.Silencedgunfire.

I sprint for the table, lunging for the gun.

“Hide,bella,” Lorenzo shouts. “Run.”

Another muted pop echoes off the walls as I scramble for the doors leading outside, my hands slipping against the lever that won’t budge.

It’s locked.

I’m trapped.

I bang against the glass, desperate for Matthew’s attention. My fist pounds harder and harder to be heard over the shrieking birds.

He swings to face me, his eyes stark, his hand in his pocket.

The guards near the door raise their weapons. Remy does, too.

But nobody’s attention remains on me. They all shift their fixation to the side of the house. On the armed men who storm the yard.

A pop sounds. Lorenzo’s guard is shot in the head. Right in front of me. His blood splatters the glass.

---