Page 89 of Forbidden Sins

“Don’t move,” Sebastian breathes. “Don’t even think about it?—”

It’s as if he could feel me tense, feel that moment when all I could do is think that maybe this is hopeless. That maybe if I went to Vito now, Sebastian would have time to run.

Except I know he never would. He’ll never leave me, even if he dies for it.

“This entire game has been rather touching, really,” Vito continues. “The mafia princess and her champion, in love, running away from the villain. Making their last stand, ready to die for love. Except I won’t kill you, Estella. I’ll kill him, and I’ll make it long and torturous, unless you give yourself up. And the longer you make me wait, the longer I have to think of all the ways I can punish you for running from me. The same as I’m thinking up somanyways to punish him, for stealing what’s mine.”

Those last words crack something open inside of me. I straighten, and before Sebastian can grab me, I step forward, out of the trees. I see Vito’s eyes go wide, and I know he didn’t expect me to actually come out.

“That’s where you’re wrong.” My voice is more even than I expected it to be. I raise the gun, leveling it at his chest. “I was never yours, Vito.”

And then I pull the trigger.

29

SEBASTIAN

Iwatch as Estella steps out from behind our cover, my heart stopping in my chest. Everything inside me screams to pull her back, to shield her with my body, but it's too late. She's already moving forward, out of my reach, facing Vito with a steadiness I've never seen before. And if I go for her now, I might get us both killed. If I shout her name the way I want to, the others will know where I am, and they’ll cut me down.

Then he’ll have her, and I’ll be dead. There will be nothing I can do.

"That's where you're wrong," she says, her voice carrying through the trees. "I was never yours, Vito."

The gunshot cracks through the forest like thunder. I’m frozen for a split second, unable to believe that she did it. That she pulled the trigger. Pride and fear crash through me all at once as Vito staggers backward, his face a mask of shock as he looks down at the spreading red stain on his chest. For a moment, time seems suspended—Vito still standing, Estella with the gun extended, me frozen behind the fallen tree.

Then chaos erupts.

One of Vito's men fires, the bullet splintering bark inches from Estella's head. I launch myself forward, tackling her to the ground as more shots ring out around us. We roll behind a thick tree trunk, bullets thudding into the wood.

"Stay down," I growl, returning fire. One of Vito's men drops, clutching his shoulder.

Vito is on his knees now, one hand pressed to his chest, the other raising his gun toward me. I aim and fire in one fluid motion. My bullet catches him in the arm, sending his weapon spinning into the underbrush.

"You bitch," he snarls at Estella, blood bubbling at the corner of his mouth. "You think this changes anything? Your father will hunt you both down. There's nowhere you can hide. Kill me, and he’ll sell you to someone else. You’ll just be a ruined piece of cunt for the highest bidder he can find."

I start to pull the trigger, but before I can, a deafeningcracksounds next to my ear. I twist around to see Estella kneeling next to me, her hand shaking, tears running from her eyes as she holds the revolver out in front of her. When I look back at Vito, he’s on the ground, slumped into the dirt. Estella looks at me, her face bloodless, her eyes wide. “That was my last bullet,” she breathes.

I have no idea if her shot killed Vito or not, but I don't waste breath responding. Instead, I grab Estella's hand and pull her deeper into the forest, away from the gunfire as Vito’s men respond. We need distance, need to regroup. My mind races through our options, each one bleaker than the last.

I'm down to three rounds myself. Not enough to take on the remaining men, especially if there are more waiting in the SUV.

"This way," I whisper, veering left toward a denser patch of trees. If we can just make it to the highway on the other side of this forest, maybe flag down a passing car…

We crash through the trees, ducking around branches. One catches me in the cheek, leaving a stinging line across my skin, and I feel a warm trickle of blood. I hardly notice it—I’m more worried about other kinds of wounds. The kind you don’t get back up from.

Estella doesn’t slow or falter, even as we scramble across the rough terrain, the branches and underbrush tearing at our clothes. I want to tell her how brave she’s been, how impressed I am by her strength and tenacity, but there’s no time for that.

Maybe later. If there is a later, for us.

I can hear the shouts of Vito’s men growing louder. They’re gaining on us, and I don’t know how much longer we can run like this. Not in the state we’re both in.

I spy a ravine up ahead, and tug on Estella’s hand. “This way,” I hiss, veering off our current path. “I think there’s a creek up ahead. It could help hide our tracks, if so.”

Estella follows me, her hand clenched around mine. When we try to run down the embankment, I feel her stumble and nearly fall, and I let go of her hand, slinging my arm around her waist to pull her upright. The embankment rises up on either side as we follow it down, blocking the view from above, at least for now. I pull Estella to the edge of the shallow, fast-moving water, nudging her down.

“Keep your head down,” I whisper, breathless from the cold water splashing up and soaking the legs of my pants, trickling into my boots. “Let’s move. Hurry. If we can get further down and take a different path, maybe double back?—”

The sound of the water is masking our movements, and for a moment, I allow myself to hope that this slapdash plan might work. That we might get away from them. We might make it to the highway, flag down a car, and then…

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