Page 38 of Corso DeLuca

Startled, I jump, clutching at Corso’s waist. My injured arm protests the quick action, but I hold on. How will we defend ourselves against dozens of armed men?

“Activate kill mode in all tunnels except the master suite. Open public communication access.”

“Line open,” the pleasant, but creepy female artificial intelligence returns amid a series of clicks.

I twist my head up, looking to all corners of the ceiling. Squinting, I see the cameras, and what looks to be sensors hidden within intricate crown molding and wall sconces. Damn, is the entire building a technological marvel?

“This is management. DeLuca crest activation in progress. Anyone without clearance can be hunted on company grounds.” Seconds later, I have my answer when the DeLuca crest on my jacket starts to glow. My entire body stills. I think back to yesterday’s conversation in the clinic, The Governor can defend herself.

“Computer, close communication. Activate self-defense systems in my quarters.”

“Corso,” I whisper yell. “While I appreciate the cool spy toys. What is all of this?” I say, pointing to my glowing chest.

Turning, he slips his large hands in leather gloves. “Reinforcing that it likes you, princess. The Governor is mine. The digital signature in the clothing separates friend from foe for the computer system.”

“Are you talking a weapons system?”

“Among other things.”

We’re out of time, but I have to secure one promise. He’s never lied to me. If he gives me his word, I’ll have to trust it.

“Corso, you can’t hurt my sister.”

With one gloved hand, he brushes a stray coil behind my ear.

“I won’t lay a finger on Josie, promise.” Somehow, that answer has the hairs on my neck standing at attention.

Before I can clarify the details, a roar shatters the quiet as an explosion rocks the floor beneath my feet. The mirrors vibrate from the impact. Corso pulls me to him, protecting me with his bulk. Ringing in my ears and head has me gnashing my teeth. Heavy footfalls, lots of them, seem to be coming from every direction. Circulating dust and debris make it difficult to see who’s approaching.

A man bellows, “I’m going to cut your head off your body, Corso DeLuca. You killed my family, motherfucker.”

When the smoke clears. Two figures, a large man and a woman, followed by a troop of men armed with automatic weapons flank us.

My breath catches. At the center is Mattia Esposito and Josie.

“It’s a beautiful day to die,” Corso growls.

My sister is still slender in Esposito green leathers, spiky straight black hair, shrewd eyes, and hard unyielding features. There’s a scar under her left eye, marring her once warm brown complexion. I don’t miss the gun she’s palming.

“Josie,” I whisper.

Mattia’s dull brown eyes focus on Corso then swing to me. “Hmm, you look like a fresh version of my Jacobella. Can’t wait to sample you.”

Anger and revulsion shoot through my veins. “Fuck you, asshole. You ain’t getting a damn thing from me.”

Josie, rather Jacobella, laughs. I can’t hide my shock or hurt. The diastema we shared between our two front teeth, the uniqueness between twins, is gone. Its symbolic really. I thought Corso, who’s been nothing but kind and supportive, was evil. Yet, my genetic replica is working with a madman to overthrow The Governor.

“Jessie, still a big talker. We lost a lot of good men coming to get you. Let’s get the fuck up out of here.”

“Corso, if Jessie’s mouth is as talented as her sister’s, I’m going to enjoy having them both on my cock. Two pussies are better than one. Especially twins.”

“If you like pussy so much, Mattia, suck your own cock.”

“Colorful language for a dead man. Oh, that’s right. You’re still mad at me about your mommy and baby brother.”

While we’ve been exchanging jabs Mattia’s men are slowly circling the parameter.

“You killed Greg?” I demand with a hard edge of pain.