Page 103 of Brutal Heir
But just one smile from her, and I’m grinning back like a whipped idiot.Dio, Matteo is so right.
I’m so distracted by the happiness radiating from the woman beside me that I almost miss it. That faint prickle in the air, that sixth sense sending alarm bells ringing out across the very fiber of my being.
The roar of an engine then the sharp squeal of tires rips through the air, and I lunge for her, dropping the tree before the shot cracks like thunder echoing off the brownstones.
“Get down!”
CHAPTER 40
TOGETHER
Rory
One second, I’m smiling at the ridiculously handsome man hauling a Christmas tree down Central Park West. The next, he’s screaming at me to get down.
The roar of an engine cuts through the air like a blade. Tires screech. Then…
Pop. Pop. Pop.
Gunshots.
Before my brain even catches up, Alessandro’s body slams into mine, knocking me off my feet and to the sidewalk. My knees hit hard, jarring pain shooting up my legs, but I don’t have time to register it because his arms wrap around me like a shield as shards from a shattered golden ornament rain down.
Another shot cracks through the air, this one closer.
The car circles, coming back for another round.
Screams erupt down the block. Chaos. People running. Someone drops a coffee cup outside the café nearby, andceramic smashes across the pavement. A car horn blares in the distance.
“Alessandro—” My voice barely comes out, winded from the fall. All I can think is not again. I can’t lose someone else. Not him. Not now.
“Stay down!” he growls, his mouth so close to my ear it sends a tremor through me. Not from desire this time. From pure, unfiltered terror.
My face is pressed to his chest, the smell of pine needles and cologne clinging to his coat. He keeps his body curved over mine like a human shield. The tree we were so stupidly carrying lies sideways beside us, branches broken, needles scattered like shrapnel.
Another gunshot. Closer still. I flinch.
Alessandro’s body jolts.
“Feck, Ale?” My voice cracks. “Are you hit?”
“No,” he grits out, his breath coming fast and shallow. “I’m fine. But we have to move. Now.”
He grabs my hand and drags me up, half carrying me toward the alley between two brownstones. My feet barely touch the ground. Behind us, another shot rings out, ricocheting off the pavement.
Alessandro slams his back to the brick wall, pulling me tight to his front as he peers around the corner. His heart’s hammering so hard I feel it through both our coats.
I’m still clutching the stupid bag full of half-broken ornaments like it’s a lifeline.
“Was it them? The people behind the murder at the Velvet Vault?” I whisper.
His eyes snap to mine, the midnight one darker than ever. “La Spada Nera? I don’t know. But that sure as hell wasn’t random.”
I’m shocked he tells me their name. He’s been letting me into the murky world he inhabits, and he has no idea how familiar I already am with that darkness. He exhales, every muscle coiled and ready. His hand is still at my back, gripping the base of my spine like he’s afraid I’ll disappear.
Sirens wail in the distance. Finally. It feels like a lifetime.
“Rory…” he whispers, and suddenly the tremor in his voice isn’t from fear. It’s something deeper. More frightening. “I need you to promise me something.”
