Page 89 of Second Chance Daddy
Clothes soaked through with Gino Esposito’s blood. His arrogance. His life.
All gone.
I press the last shovelful of dirt down with my boot, watching the ground settle like none of this happened.
The first shot was to the knee.
Not because I wanted information. Not because I cared to draw it out.
It was principle.
The gunfire had cracked through the air, and one of my men dropped, clutching his shoulder. The others scattered for cover, returning fire at shadows in the trees.
Gino was already moving when he saw the fury on my face, scrambling back toward his SUV.
Where Aria lay drugged in the backseat.
I ran, the world narrowing to a single point: my daughter.
I ducked, rolled, and came up firing at the two men behind Gino’s SUV.
The first one took it in the throat. Second in the chest. Hell, they dropped like stones.
Gino had the back door open now, reaching for Aria’s limp form.
“Don’t,” I snarled.
He froze, half in the vehicle, then slowly turned. The fear in his eyes gave me a sick satisfaction.
He knew.
At that moment, he knew exactly who he was dealing with.
“Romano,” he said. “Let’s be reasonable.”
“Reasonable? You drugged my kid.”
His face twisted ugly with rage. “She’s not yours.”
“DNA says otherwise. Besides, would a father drug his own kid?”
The idiot went for his gun. I made it easy—shot him in the knee. He screamed, collapsed against the SUV door, clutching the shattered joint.
“That,” I stepped closer, “was for making Cassie flinch every time a door slams.”
His gaze jumped, hunting for an escape. Too late. His guys were dead or trapped in the tree line. He was alone.
“The kid,” he gasped. “She’s all yours, okay? Take her. We can work something out.”
I crouched beside him, close enough to smell the fear.
“You know your mistake, Gino?”
He swallowed, eyes fixed on my gun.
“You thought she was leverage.” I leaned in, voice razor-sharp. “She’s my blood. You don’t fuck with a man’s blood.”
For a man so trigger-happy, for his pride, the bastard groveled.
