Page 2 of Roman Blake
“You built too much with us,” he said. “You know too much. Men have died behind business tied to your name. There is no retirement plan for this life.”
“I’m done and like I said I came down here to tell you myself out of respect. I made you some good money over the years and I’m leaving on good terms and that should be the end of the discussion,” I spoke, being serious.
For a second, nobody said nothing. Then Salvatore gave me a cold little smile.
“That may be true,” he said, “but the life is not done with you.”
The second I stepped outside that villa, every instinct in me lit up. I reached for my gun before the first shot even rang out.
“Move!” I yelled.
Gunfire exploded from both sides of the courtyard. My soldiers returned fire immediately, forcing me toward the car. Glass shattered. Bullets tore through stone. One of my men dropped before we made it past the fountain, blood spraying across the white concrete like paint.
I fired twice and caught one of theirs in the throat. Another came from behind a pillar, and my other soldier put him down before taking one to the chest himself.
By the time I got in the car, both the men I brought with me were either dead or dying. One slumped halfway out the back seat. The other never made it off the ground.
My heart was pounding for one reason now… Mo.
I sped through them winding roads like a man possessed. I called the house three times. No answer. Called security. No answer. That was when the cold started creeping up my spine.
When I pulled up to the villa, the front gate was cracked open. One of the guards was laid out beside the entrance, with a puddle of blood under him. Another was dead inside the doorway.
Everything in me went still.
“No,” I yelled, already running. “No, no, no.”
Inside, the house looked like a storm had ripped through it. Furniture overturned. Glass everywhere. One of my men was dead near the kitchen, another folded beside the back doors leading to the beach.
Then I heard it.
A gunshot.
I ran toward the sound so fast I almost lost my footing. When I burst through the back doors, the world slowed down.
Mo was on the sand.
Three men were near her. One was backing away with his gun still raised. Another was yelling in Italian. The third turned when he saw me and reached for his weapon.
I shot him before he could clear it.
Then I shot the second one.
The third took off running down the shoreline.
But all I could see was my wife.
I dropped to my knees beside her, my hands already pressing against the blood soaking through her dress. Her eyes found mine instantly, wide and scared, but still so damn full of love it broke something in me.
“Roman,” she whispered.
“Nah, nah, baby, stay with me.” My hands were shaking so bad I could barely keep pressure on the wound. “You hear me? Stay with me. I got you.”
She reached for my face with trembling fingers. “They were waiting… they were waiting for you.”
My chest caved in on itself.
The bullets were never meant for her.
