Page 35 of Taken By the Mafia King
“Great job, little lady. You may have just saved this man’s life.”
CHAPTER 28
SERA
Ayoung man named Mikey was tasked with escorting me back to my room. I trembled as we walked through the darkened house and my adrenaline crashed. It was still pitch black outside. I hadn’t bothered to find a clock during the last thirty minutes or so. Everything had been a blur. A blur of noise, a blur of activity. A blur of hot blood and frantic energy.
Mikey wordlessly led me to my room but didn’t step inside. I went to the ensuite bathroom and closed myself in, choking on a sob as I turned and saw my reflection in the mirror. I was covered in Tommaso’s blood. If he died, it would be partially my fault. Even with the doctor here now, I’d been the one to stop the bleeding by picking out pieces of metal from his chest and sewing him back together. What if I’d made a mistake? What if I missed something?
What if Killian never forgave me?
I showered, forcing myself not to look at the crimson streaks curling around my feet as I scrubbed my skin until it burned.
I stepped out of the bathroom dressed in a towel with every intention of crawling back in bed but then stopped short, my eyes settling on the door Mickey had left ajar.
The door was open.
I was free.
I pulled on a fresh robe. Adrenaline spiked anew in my veins as I stepped out into the hallway. Mostly naked with wet hair, there was no way I was going to run off into the night. I hadn’t even thought of it for more than a second. If anything, just being outside of that room for a moment was as freeing as walking the streets again would be.
What now? It was only a matter of time before someone came up and realized I was loose. But what could they really do about it? I’d just saved their friend from death. I deserved a little fresh air, did I not?
I padded downstairs to the second floor. Muted voices hummed through the air in soft whispers as I passed a closed door. It was the doctor and a few other voices I didn’t recognize. I made note of where the door was because I knew Tommaso was inside, hopefully doing well.
Other than that, the second floor was silent and dark. No one milled about. I wasn’t sure what happened at night in this house and who lived here other than Killian. He had guards on duty, surely.
But I passed no one on my way downstairs to the grand foyer.
Muddy, blood-soaked footprints still crusted over the ornate marble leading into the dining room. I could hear the soft murmurs of maids and the sloshing of water as they mopped and scrubbed the mess that had been left behind.
I stood still in front of the formal entrance to Killian’s home and hesitated to go any further.
I could leave right now. I had a chance.
But I turned to the left where a narrow hallway led deeper into the eastern wing of the enormous mansion and heard a soft crash coming from a door that had been left slightly open. A faint curse followed, then someone cleared their throat.
I pushed that door open and found Killian in his office, his back to me.
Closing the door behind me, I leaned against it as he turned his head and looked me up and down.
“Who let you out?”
“One of your soldiers left my door wide open,” I said quietly.
He didn’t seem at all interested and turned back around to face the hearth. The blazing fire warmed and dried out the room. He held a glass of amber liquid. I noticed the decanter of what looked like whiskey on a low table before the fireplace.
Walking past him, I poured myself a glass. “What happened?”
“The de Luca syndicate,” he replied dryly, and it was all he needed to say. Revenge, then.
“Who is their new boss?”
“You wouldn’t know him.”
“I might,” I admitted, meeting his eyes.
“Giuseppe de Luca, Gabriele’s son.”
