Page 74 of Auctioned Innocence
“No?” Viktor’s smile widens. “We’ll see about that when I’m done with both of you. Though I think I’ll start with you, Moretti. Make her watch. Make it last.”
The threat hangs in the air between us, and I see something cold and lethal take over Dante’s expression. The asshole is planning to throw his life away to give me a chance to run.
Like hell.
“When I give the signal,” I whisper, “duck and roll left.”
He startles, looking at me with wide eyes. “Sofia?—”
“Trust me,” I repeat, and this time there’s something in my voice that makes him nod.
Viktor opens his mouth to say something else, probably another threat or taunt?—
The wall behind him explodes.
Not from inside the building—from outside. The charges Marco’s team set as a backup plan, in case everything went wrong.
Which it has, spectacularly.
In the chaos that follows, I remember only fragments. Dante tackling me down as debris flies overhead. The taste of plaster dust and blood. Marco’s voice shouting orders somewhere in the smoke and confusion. The rattle of automatic weapons as his team pours through the breach.
When the smoke clears enough to see, Viktor is gone. Vanished like the coward he is, probably using the confusion to escape while his men die for him.
But our way out is gone too, blocked by tons of rubble and twisted metal.
“This way!” Dante pulls me up, toward a service door I hadn’t noticed before. “Secondary exit.”
We run through maintenance tunnels that seem to stretch forever, my lungs burning from the smoke and exertion. Behind us, gunfire and screaming gradually fade, replaced by the sound of our own breathing and the echo of our footsteps on concrete.
Ahead, finally, a hint of fresh air.
Just before we reach it, Dante stumbles.
“Sofia…” His voice carries something I’ve never heard before—weakness, pain, mortality.
Blood seeps through his suit jacket, dark against the expensive fabric. A bullet must have found him in the chaos, and he’s been running on adrenaline ever since. I catch him before he falls, taking his weight against my shoulder.
“Almost—we’re almost there,” I pant, though the exit looks miles away. “Just…stay with me, okay? Don’t you eventhinkabout dying, Dante Moretti!”
His laugh is pained but real. “Not going anywhere,principessa.”
We stagger forward together, and I realize this is what partnership really means—not just fighting side by side, but holding each other up when the other falters. Supporting each other through the darkness.
Behind us, new footsteps echo in the tunnel. Viktor’s men, or maybe just guards who escaped the explosion. Either way, they’re coming.
A bullet ricochets off the concrete wall beside my head, sending sparks flying.
“Almost there,” Dante pants, though each step is clearly agony for him. “Just around this?—”
He stumbles again, a grunt of pain escaping him. My hands find warm blood on his jacket, more than before. Too much.
“Dante!” Fear nearly overcomes me. Not now. Not when we’re so close.
“Keep moving,” he grits out through clenched teeth. “Exit’s right there.”
I wrap his arm around my shoulders, half-dragging him forward. He’s heavier than he looks, all muscle and determination, but I’m stronger than people think. Stronger than I knew, maybe.
The sound of pursuit grows louder behind us, boots on concrete and voices calling out coordinates. They’re goddamn organized. This isn’t over.
