Page 91 of Unforgiving Queen
I returned my attention to the building, the tension vehement and palpable. My mood was about to go from bad to terrible.
“Is something the matter?” Dante whispered, appearing beside me. “And no, I’m not fucking talking about Romero.”
Dante gave zero shits about Tomaso Romero. He’d actually hated his guts for a while now, so it was shocking to me that Romero couldn’t sense the resentment rolling off him too.
“No,” I said. He narrowed his eyes as if he knew something I didn’t. “Spit it out, Dante.”
“I’m just surprised you haven’t brought up Reina.” As long as there was air left in my lungs, Reina would never be his. “Considering your past and all that. Although I’m sure she wants to put a bullet in you.” Was he purposely trying to piss me off? “Dates with her are fun,” he drawled in a lazy tone.
The fact that he’d had dates with her filled my vision red.
“I swear to God, Dante, if you don’t shut the fuck up, I’m going to shoot you and leave you to bleed out on the grass.”
He stared at me, his jaw tightening, but he said nothing else. We’d grown distant over the last three years, but I still loved him. Blood or no blood.
“Good to know,” he finally said. “But I feel the need to point something out.”
“What?” I snapped.
“You’re behaving like a man obsessed.”
With her, remained unspoken. Not too long ago, it was blasphemous to have these feelings for Reina, but not anymore. Now, I was eager to make her mine.
“Stay focused on this mission,” I said in a half-assed attempt to divert his attention. I tilted my head toward the building. “Something’s off.”
“Like what?” he said, turning to face the building again.
“Guards.”
He picked up on my line of thought. “There are none.”
I nodded. We didn’t have sensors picking up the area outside the building, but we knew from experience. “They’re concealed, but they’re here. It’s like they were expecting us.”
Dante’s head whipped in Romero’s direction. “Did you fucking tell someone?”
He shook his head once. “No. Why the fuck would I do that?”
Heavy silence fell over the space. Ignoring the two of them, I surveyed the area, my fingers firmly on the gun. Leaving wasn’t an option, but neither was dying. I barely had time to ponder my options when a loud boom echoed in the air, shaking the ground.
The three of us fell to the ground, and for a moment, we didn’t move. Time stopped, my ears buzzed. Silence.
Then the commotion started. The guards surrounded us. It was a fucking ambush.
“It’s a trap,” Dante called out, echoing my thoughts.
The warehouse was on fire as debris rained from the smoke-filled building. Screams and wails tore through the night air. Body parts—limbs—scattered.
“Look for survivors. Kill anyone else,” I bit out, then started to crawl toward the warehouse. If there was a single woman still alive, we had to get her out.
My head was clear, my body moving on instinct. Ignoring the noise from the explosion and gunfire—boom, boom, boom—I made my way to the nearest tree that wasn’t burning. I spotted the first guard dressed in a uniform. I didn’t stop to think. Pulling the trigger, I aimed to shoot. Bullseye, right between the eyes.
Then I spotted the next one.
Click. Aim. Shoot.
I repeated it. Over and over again.
The whole time shots sounded all around me, taking aim at us, I cursed—in Italian, Japanese, English, even French. The fucking fuckers.
