Page 20 of Rome for the Holidays
Her eyes were deep brown, she had black hair curled at the ends of her waist, and she was beautiful, there was no denying it, but she wasn’t Harper.
He didn’t have the reaction he had to her like he had when he had first seen a photograph of Harper and that’s how he knew this wouldn’t work.
He lifted his chin at her, but his father cleared his throat and Vincenzo walked over to her, holding out his hand until the girl lifted hers, and he leaned down, hovering his lips over her hand, but not touching them.
“My lady.”
She blinked at him; her dark eyes confused.
Vincenzo straightened, and dropped her hand, backing away from her.
His father spread his arms, “I knew this would be for the best.”
Vincenzo really believed his father thought it was for the best, even though he didn’t think so.
The head of the Agosti family, Angelo Agosti shook his head, “I’m afraid not.”
Vincenzo felt his body go stiff, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end as if he could feel the violence emanating from the men in the room, and then dove behind his father’s desk as Angelo pulled a gun out from his coat, shooting Vincenzo Senior in his chest, over and over.
Vincenzo grabbed the gun under his father’s desk, getting to his knees just enough to get a good shot.
He ignored his father’s prone body, holding the gun and shooting at Angelo, taking him down with two shots, one to the head and one to the chest.
The men Angelo brought with him started shooting at him, and Vincenzo dove back behind the desk, vaguely aware that Alessandra started screaming.
Vincenzo rose again, shooting one of the men in his arm, but dropping back as the other raised his gun, barely missing him.
Vincenzo wanted to curse but stayed calm as he got to his knees again, shooting the other man, making him drop to his knees as he tried to hold his blood in his body.
Vincenzo had gotten him in the throat, and the other goon grabbed Alessandra, throwing her over his good shoulder as they ran from the room.
Vincenzo stood, holding the gun to his side as the man he shot in the throat took his last breath.
He turned to look at the chaos and walked over to his father’s body.
His eyes were open, unseeing and Vincenzo felt the pain of his father’s death hit him hard.
Clenching the gun he held, he walked over to Angelo, knowing the man was dead. His shot had been true.
Vincenzo clenched his jaw, knowing this could not stand.
He walked from the office, watching through the open door as their car tore down the driveway.
He let them leave, knowing they had just brought war to his doorstep.
He shut the door behind him, finding Enzo standing with a gun in his hand.
“What happened?”
Vincenzo shook his head, “The Agosti’s took out my father. So, I took out Angelo.”
He heard a gasp, and saw his mother rushing down the stairs, “Your father is dead?”
Vincenzo nodded, “I am sorry mother. I was not fast enough to save him.”
She shook her head, tears swimming in her eyes, “You did not know. I thought this was just a meeting so that you could meet your intended bride.”
“I thought so too. We were both wrong.”
