Page 29 of Broken Mafia Prince
Sweat slicks down my back as I make my way to the door.
Every few seconds, I pause to make sure the men are still deep in their conversation. My mouth curves into a smile as Ifinally slip into the back room, triumph rocking through me. All I have to do now is get to the safe and get out of here.
Wasting no time, I hurry to the safe box and dig out the small device from my bag. Glancing over my shoulder to make sure I’m in the clear, I attach it to the keypad on the safe box like Emilio instructed. It makes a clicking sound, and numbers start to flash on the device.
“Come on, come on,” I mutter, my heart pounding.
The first number turns green.
Three more to go.
The numbers continue to flash. It feels like a century later when the second number clicks into place. And then the third follows moments later. My palms are sweaty as I stare at the flashing screen.
“One more,” I whisper, dragging a hand through my hair.
I watch the numbers closely as they flash on the device, so focused on it that I don’t notice someone coming up behind me until I’m whirled around.
“Who the fuck are you?” the man asks in his deep, accented voice. His gaze shifts over my shoulder when the device clicks, indicating that the last number has turned green.
My heart skips a beat when his dark eyes meet mine.
“Ublyudok!” Bastard! I don’t need to know the language to understand what that one means, or to know that the man isn’t pleased by what I’m trying to do. I reach for the gun in my waistband, but I’m too slow.
He swings his fist before I can make a move, and it comes crashing down on the side of my head. The force of the blow rattles my skull, and I stagger backward, the gun slipping from my hand and clattering to the floor.
He roars something at his friend that I don’t understand. What I do understand is that if I don’t get out of here, I’m dead, and my father will call it a day.
Mother won’t survive it, I think.
The thought snaps me out of my daze, and I dive for the gun on the floor while the men are still arguing. Raising it with surprisingly steady hands, I fire at the man who hit me. The bullet tears through his head, taking half of it.
My stomach turns at the sight, but I don’t give myself time to be horrified at the fact that I’ve just killed a man. I yank the safe open and pull out the bag. The dead man’s friend lets out a furious cry and pulls out his gun.
His first shot whizzes past my ear, causing my breath to stutter in my chest.
I don’t think, I just run.
Arms pumping, I race out of the back room and come to a screeching halt at the sight of four guns pointed straight at me. The noise must have alerted some of the men.
“Drop de bag, and put your hands up,” one of them orders, his accent so thick that the words are almost indecipherable.
I toss the bag on the floor and raise my hands in the air in surrender. The full force of my situation hits me at that moment, and I realize I’m going to die here. Maybe this was my father’s whole plan to get rid of me.
In that moment, I find myself thinking of someone I haven’t allowed myself to think about in a while.
The girl’s voice floats in my head.“What kind of stupid name is Laika?”
“Drop the gun, kid,” the man orders.
If I die here, I’ll never see Giulia again. I don’t know where the thought comes from. It’s a stupid one anyway. She probably wouldn’t remember me now.
“Now!”
I begin to bend to drop the gun, when all of a sudden, a gunshot rings out. One of the men makes a gurgling sound and slaps a hand over his neck as red begins to seep out of it.
All the lights go off in the warehouse, plunging us into darkness. I know this is my chance to run for my life, but my legs refuse to move, terror rooting them to the floor.
Someone barks something in Russian, and then there’s another gunshot. The room dissolves into chaos, with gunshots being fired randomly. And yet, I remain frozen there, like the coward that Father always says I am.
