Ruthless: Mob Boss Book One (12 page)

She turned the pillow over the cold side. What was wrong with her? She was romanticizing him. Assigning him qualities he didn’t have to make her desire for him more palatable. It wasn’t like her to be dishonest with herself.

She almost laughed aloud. She’d been dishonest with herself all along. Her father was a criminal every bit as violent as Nico, and she hadn’t looked close enough to ask a single question. Denial was practically her middle name. She had wanted Nico, plain and simple. She still wanted him.

The thought of him brought a flash of memory; his dark head between her legs, the feel of his tongue, hot and insistent, against the petals of her sex.

A surge of desire rolled through her. She was already—or maybe the most appropriate word was
still
—wet for him. She imagined him prowling the halls of the building that was obviously his headquarters. He could be right on the other side of the door for all she knew, thinking about her like she was thinking about him.

There was a vibration between her legs now, and she punched the pillow and rolled over, willing herself not to think about his mouth on her inner thigh, the look in his eyes when he’d spread her legs and called her beautiful.

There was nowhere for this to go. The fact that her father was in the same business as Nico didn’t make his profession acceptable. She would have to cut ties with her father if it were true, and she would definitely have to cut ties with the man who had kidnapped her. She didn’t want to be part of their world, and that meant Nico could never be part of hers, assuming he wanted to.

Which was a pretty big assumption.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, sinking deeper into the pillow. A moment later she heard a bang from somewhere outside her room. She opened her eyes just as the sound of breaking glass crashed through the building.

She bolted upright, her heart picking up its pace in her chest. A series of thuds sounded in quick succession, and then there was no doubt.

It was gunfire. Somewhere in the building, someone was shooting.

She heard the sound of men shouting and jumped out of bed, walking cautiously to the door as a cacophony of gunfire, breaking glass, and splintered wood exploded from elsewhere in the building.

It was reflex to look for a way out. Stupid. She’d already looked a thousand times. But something was going on outside, and she was locked up in this stupid room, completely helpless.

A burst of noise, closer now, came from outside her room. She stepped back from the door, not wanting to get hit by a stray bullet, and tried to stay calm around the adrenaline flooding her brain.

Fight or flight. Except there was no flight.

Tuning her ears to the sounds outside the room, she tried to determine what was going on from the shouting and exchange of gunfire. She jumped as a series of staccato bursts rang from the hall. Whoever it was would reach her in seconds.

She scanned the room, desperate for a weapon. It was pointless. Nico hadn’t given her anything but clothes ands toiletries. There wasn’t even an object heavy enough to hit someone over the head.

The shouting was just outside her door now, the pop of gunfire nearly continuous as she backed up against the wall. Seconds later, something smashed against the door in three sharp cracks.

She jumped, watching the door splinter as the banging continued. She barely had time to register what was happening when the door crashed inward.

Two black-clad figures in masks strode into the room and headed right for her.

She shook her head. “What are you doing? Who are - ”

One of the men grabbed her roughly by the arm. “Move,” he ordered, propelling her toward the door.

The other man stood in front of them, covering them with his gun as Angel was shoved forward.

She struggled, kicking and screaming, trying to wrench her arm free from the man’s steely grasp. There was a voice inside her asking what she was doing—she wanted to escape, didn’t she?—but it was drowned out by the panic of being dragged kicking and screaming from the place that had sheltered her for the last week.

“Stop it,” the man ordered. “You’re father sent us. We’re trying to get you out of here.”

She stopped fighting and moved with them to the door. The man still had ahold of her arm, but she wasn’t resisting anymore. She was finally going to get out of here.

Nico.

She ignored the voice inside her head and moved.

20

He’d been in his office, trying to concentrate on work instead of the dilemma with Angel, when the first round of gunfire erupted from downstairs.

He jumped up, reflex kicking in as he grabbed his gun. He flattened himself against the wall next to the door and listened, trying to get a handle on how many shooters were in the building and what they were up against.

It took him less than a minute to determine there were at least three gunmen, maybe as many as five. He hurried to his desk, grabbed extra ammo, and stuffed it in his pockets. Then he threw open the door and eased into the quiet third floor hall.

He was working his way carefully toward the stairs when Luca burst out of the stairwell with his own gun in hand.

Nico lowered his weapon. “What the fuck is going on?”

Luca ran toward him. “Five gunmen, three of them heading for the basement.”

“Then what the fuck are you doing up here?” Nico roared, running for the stairs.

“Marco and Vincent are going for her,” he said, following Nico into the stairwell.

“I don’t need a babysitter.” He was screaming inside, the placidity he’d learned to count on abandoning him at the thought of Carlo’s thugs going for Angel. Carlo might be her father, but Nico didn’t trust him or his soldiers.

He stood against the wall, listening for sounds in the stairwell, then took a careful look down the stairs.

Clear.

He hurried down, half-expecting someone to burst into the stairwell from one of the other floors.

“I’ve got to get you out of here,” Luca said, descending after him. “If they’re Carlo’s men, they’re going to take Angelica and then come for you.”

“I can take care of myself,” Nico said. “Angel won’t stand a chance in a gunfight.”

Luca’s hand came down on Nico’s arms. “If they were sent by her father, they’re not going to hurt her.”

Nico shook off Luca’s hand. “Take your hand off me.”

Luca removed his hand.

“Do you think Carlo gives a fuck about her?” Anger fought its way through the adrenaline pumping in Nico’s veins. “He’s left her with us for over a week. She’s better off with us at this point.” He leveled his gaze at Luca. “Now you can either come with me or go help someone else, but I’m not going to debate it with you.”

He hurried down the stairs with Luca’s footsteps behind him. He passed the door to the second floor without a second thought. His men were trained to take care of themselves and each other, and the soldiers in the computer lab knew how to protect their data.

It was Angel who need his help.

A series of gunshots came from the basement, reverberating through the stairwell. Nico didn’t want to to think about what it meant that his heart was in his throat, that he was having trouble concentrating when all he could see was Angel in the hands of Carlo’s men. Old school hoodlums who had no sense of honor, just like Carlo.

They reached the door leading to the basement hall. Nico flattened himself against the wall as Luca did the same on the opposite side of the door. Nico tipped his head at the door. He pointed first to himself, then to Luca, indicating that Luca should follow him into the hall.

Luca shook his head. He pointed to himself, then the door.

Nico understood. It was Luca’s job to protect him. Letting Nico run first into a gunfight with members of an opposing family was the opposite of what Luca was supposed to do.

But this wasn’t about Nico. It was about Angel, and Nico would be damned if he’d trust her safety to anyone but him, regardless of how much he trusted Luca with everything else.

He reached for the knob and eased open the door before Luca could say anything.

He glanced into the hall and made a quick assessment of the situation; two of his men at the other end of the hall, blocking the second stairwell, one masked figure in the doorway to Angel’s room. A muffled thud and shout from the open door told him that at least one man was in there with her.

He made eye contact with his men at the end of the hall and gestured toward Angel’s room, hoping they got the message to cover him. He slid into the hall, relieved when a burst of gunfire was directed at the man covering Angel’s room.

Nico thought the man would retreat back into the room, putting him—and whoever was with Angel—on the defensive. Instead, he stepped into the hallway and leveled a steady stream of gunfire at Nico’s men.

They retreated into the stairwell, and two more men stepped into the hall from Angel’s room. But they weren’t the ones who got his attention—it was Angel, held close to the side of one of the men as the other two surrounded them in a protective formation. Nico wanted to roar when he saw the gun aimed at Angel’s temple

He forced his mind clear. He still had the element of surprise. Carlo’s men were busy getting into the hall. They had their eyes on the soldiers at the other end and hadn’t noticed that Nico and Luca were approaching from the opposite side.

Nico steadied his weapon, aiming for the guy in back. When he had his shot, he took it. The man fell with a heavy thud as the bullet entered the back of his head. The other men spun to face him with Angel between them. The one who had ahold of her faced Nico and Luca. The other faced Nico’s soldiers across the hall.

“I’ve got the guy in back,” Luca whispered.

“Only if it’s clean,” Nico said softly. “I don’t want her hurt.”

“You better clear one of these stairwells or we’re going to start shooting,” the guy holding Angel said.

Nico’s gaze slid to Angel, her eyes wide with terror. He forced his eyes back to the man holding her. He couldn’t afford to be distracted by his fear—and Angel couldn’t afford for him to be distracted either.

“Unless you have men hiding in the walls, I’d say you’re probably on the losing end of that deal,” Nico said.

“You can’t shoot us without risking the girl,” the man said.

Nico tuned his ear to the voice, trying to match it to someone he might know in the Rossi family. God help the man who was behind that mask. The man who had Angel.

“And you’ll have to answer for it if we start shooting and something happens to Carlo Rossi’s daughter—if you make it out alive,” Nico said.

He was watching the man’s body language, looking for a clue to his next move, when the guy shoved Angel in front of him.

“Do you think I care what happens to this bitch?”

Nico hesitated. Why was one of Carlo’s men using Carlo’s daughter as a human shield?

“Drop your weapons,” the guy said. “All of you.”

“Do it,” Nico called to his men on the other side of the hall.

They leaned down, dropping the guns slowly. Nico could only hope that Luca knew him as well as he thought he did.

Nico waited until the moment before the guns hit the floor. Then he lifted his weapon and took the shot that had been teasing him since the man had thrust Angel in front of him. The man released his hold on Angel and fell to the floor. A split second later, Luca’s bullet whizzed past Nico’s head in a ferocious blast of gunfire. The other man dropped to the floor next to the one who had been holding Angel.

They stood in the deafening silence for a good five seconds before his men scrambled for their weapons.

“Secure the rest of the house,” Nico ordered, hurrying toward Angel. “I want a casualty report in an hour with details on loss of life and possible data breaches.”

They hurried up the stairs as Nico stopped in front of Angel. She was shaking, and there was blood on the side of her face. He reached up, wanting to make sure it wasn’t hers.

The palm of her hand cracked against his face. “They were coming to get me out of here,” she said bitterly.

He licked a trickle of blood where his tooth had cut his lip, then turned to Luca. “Get her things and take her to my office. Lock the door.”

He strode to the stairs, leaving Luca and Angel alone in the hall.

21

She wanted to fight Luca as he led her up the stairs. She’d been so close to escape. She almost couldn’t believe she was still here.

But all of the fight had gone out of her after the shootout in the basement hall. Now she was crashing, and all she want to do was cry and sleep. And not necessarily in that order.

Luca left her in the center of the room and headed for the door. He turned back to her. “You’re not as smart as you look, you know that?”

The words stung, especially coming from him. “Because I wanted to take my shot at getting out of here?”

He shook his head. “I’m not sure I’ve ever met anyone so blind.”

He stepped into the hall and closed the door behind him. A second later she heard him lock it.

She paced the room a couple of times before sinking onto the leather couch against one wall. The office was nice, homier than she would have expected after seeing Nico’s apartment. The big sofa faced a rough-hewn coffee table made out of what looked like oak. There was a flat screen TV on the wall and a row of DVDs, plus a state of the art sound system. On the far side of the room, a massive desk stood in front of the window. The antique clock on Nico’s desk said it was two in the morning.

She leaned back against the couch and took a deep breath. The whole incident in the basement couldn’t have taken more than fifteen minutes, but it felt like a lifetime had passed since she’d been tossing and turning in bed.

Her father had come through. Maybe not the way she’d expected—by giving Nico what he wanted, whatever that was—but he’d come for her. Now his men were dead and she was right back where she started.

Do you think I care what happens to this bitch?

She shook her head against the words. The man who’d held her at gunpoint had been bluffing. He knew Nico wouldn’t risk her life.