CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

brAXTON

"I need to call my buyer ," I say, pulling out my phone and pressing dial. I see a bunch of calls from Gianna, but now is not to the time to be focusing on the woman I shouldn't, but do, love.

Staying alive is a little more important.

I press the device to my ear, ignoring the screaming warning going off inside my head.

Something is wrong.

I can see it all over Salvatore's face.

Is that why Gianna was calling? Surely not. Dante has already confirmed to me that she doesn't know what is going on within the business.

"Are they in there?" Mack asks suddenly as the line connects.

"Stop," Salvatore says, pulling out his gun and letting it hang beside his leg.

"Yes," I barely say, hoping it's not the last word I ever utter. Then I end the call.

"What's going on?" Dante says, rejoining us.

Where the hell has he been?

"The boss is on his way," Salvatore tells us both.

"For?" the Baldassare heir asks, his brows tight as he looks between us both.

"I'm finished here," I say, pocketing my phone, hoping I've misread the situation. "I just need to advise my buyer, but I can't get a cell signal in here. Meet you outside and then I'll let you know if they want to proceed."

I don't move though.

I'm not fucking stupid.

Salvatore is watching me and quickly glances at Dante.

I glance at my watch. "Guys. The clock is ticking. It's late in Europe."

For all I know, it could be goddamn lunch time.

"How do you know Connor Barrett?" Salvatore asks.

Fuck.

"What the hell have I missed?" Dante growls, looking unhappy with the situation.

I'm unsure why.

"What did you do for the Mancini's? The dots aren't dotting." Salvatore continues his questioning.

Something has happened.

Why are they all of a sudden not trusting me? I trace my steps back, wondering if I left anything in the house. In Gianna's bedroom.

Was I followed somewhere?

There are a million ways this could have gone wrong, but I can't figure it out, and I'm surrounded by Baldassare soldiers and facing Frank "The Fire" Baldassare's second-in-command.

His heir flanking him.

This isn't good, no matter how you look at it.

"We went over this." I look between both men, then nod at Salvatore's drawn weapon. "You going to use that, or do you want the five billion dollars I'm going to provide your boss?"

"What do you get?" he asks.

"One percent," I answer, but have no fucking idea if that's the going rate. I'm winging it.

"Let's just calm our tits," Dante says, walking between us with his hands up. "Braxton is Gianna's plaything. Don't go shooting her toys, Salvatore."

I let that go, but if I get the chance, I'm going to punch his fucking lights out later.

"Stand aside, Dante," Salvatore growls.

"Or what? You going to shoot me?" Dante asks, turning his back on me.

"It would make my day." The don's second grins, bitterness dripping from him.

Okay then.

Clearly, these two are not besties.

But I have two hundred women downstairs, and I can hear their cries and moans.

Mack has been given the go ahead, and any minute this could turn into a bloodbath. I need to get out of the middle of this enormous warehouse where I'm exposed.

"Sorry. It's not Christmas. Now tell me what the fuck is going on?" Dante demands. "Who are you Braxton? Do we need to be worried?"

Loud voices sound outside, and both our eyes fly open wide when we hear Gianna.

The hell?

Dante lifts his gun, pointing it at me, and I hold up a hand to halt him.

"Whatever goes down in the next few minutes, you better make sure she doesn't fucking die," I growl darkly. "Or you will."

"Ditto, buddy," he replies.

Not your buddy.

Then we both turn as Gianna runs into the dim warehouse, with Frank Baldassare following behind. His face is furious.

"What is she doing here?" I scream as my body stiffens, needing to protect her.

"Braxton!" Gianna cries as she runs toward me. "Oh, god."

Jesus Christ.

"Gianna stop!" Frank yells, waving his hand at the guards as he stalks across the warehouse toward me, his soldiers moving in to surround him. "Stop her."

I take a step, but Salvatore lifts his gun and points it at me.

"Woah, woah. Gianna, stay there," Dante growls, and I can see fear on his face.

It's the first time I've really seen a strong emotion from the Baldassare heir. He loves his sister.

Gianna grinds to a halt and glances around, confused.

I've never wanted to have a superpower more in my life. Teleportation would be really helpful right now. I would get the woman who has my heart out of here.

She doesn't belong.

I don't care what her fucking surname is.

"Take her," the don says.

"Don't touch her," I growl out my threat, wondering where the hell the Dark Kings are.

My heart slams loudly as I watch Gianna in her yellow dress and black leather jacket looking completely out of place in this hellhole.

"Gianna go. Leave. Walk out the door," I tell her.

I need her out of here.

She could fucking die and I'm too far away from her to save her.

Then I realize her eyes aren't on me. She's frozen, staring at the lit staircase where the sounds of the women cry out into the warehouse we're standing in.

Gianna's eyes find mine as I watch the realization dawn on her.

Horror.

Betrayal.

She's not sure if I'm good or bad, but she knows that I'm not on her side. Or a good man. I could be a buyer. Or I could be about to betray them.

Her.

Which I have.

"No," she whispers, and I part my lips to speak.

But what is there to say?

Her face crumples as Frank screams. "Get her out of here now!"

She struggles as the armed man grabs her, and I reach for my gun, completely out of instinct. No man touches her.

She's mine—

"I wouldn't." Dante warns, and I see the second gun point toward my head.

She's not mine.

"I'm sorry," I say quietly, but I doubt she hears over her crying. Hatred and pain line her face as we stare at one another until she disappears.

Someone could have killed me, and all I was focused on was Gianna. I almost don't care. But it's time to face the music.

I turn to the mafia boss and wait.

"My daughter thinks you're not to be trusted."

What?

He laughs at my visible response.

Fuck you.

"Is Gianna in charge now?" I ask, knowing it will hurt his Italian pride.

"One word from me and your life is over. Watch your words." Frank steps closer.

"And give up five billion dollars? I don't think so." I shake my head. "Your daughter is cock struck. I broke her heart. Not my first or my last."

I realize my error when I slide my eyes over to Dante. But again, he says nothing. And I doubt he believes me.

"Or she's right," Salvatore says. "If you are who you say you are, get your buyer on the phone. I want proof. You've seen the produce. Now it's time for you to show us your cards."

Fuck.

My phone rings, startling us all and more guns lift.

"You want to talk to him?" Slowly, I raise my hand and Frank nods. It's obviously not my buyer—but I'm hoping it's a white knight in the form of the US Marine or two.

"Hey."

"Head down, Brax," Mack says in my ear as I hear the first pop, pop, pop.

Fuck.

I drop to the ground as gunfire surrounds me.

"You motherfucking traitor!" Frank Baldassare screams as he's immediately surrounded by his soldiers and goes crashing to the ground.

"Goddamn you," Dante says, and when I look his way, he has his Glock pointed directly at me as black-clad men pile into the room and bullets fly.

He has a clean shot.

Gianna, I love you. I'm sorry I never told you.

––––––––

I F I HAD five more minutes in my life, I'd spend them with her. Telling her I loved her. I just want one more minute. To say goodbye.

But the aim is clear. Dante will not miss. I can see this man is a deadly killer.

Then he lowers his fucking gun, turns, and runs.

What. Just. Happened?

"Get down, get down, get down!" someone yells as I pull my weapon out and crawl toward a couple of empty crates to take cover.

More tactical men fill the warehouse as the women below begin screaming loudly.

Amy.

I duck my head as a bullet flies over it, missing me by inches.

"Motherfucker," I cry. Fuck, this is chaos.

Where the hell is Gianna?

Connor skids to a stop near me and crouches, tossing me a bulletproof vest. "Put it on."

"Thanks," I say, tugging it over my head as he covers me, letting off some shots. "They're downstairs. The women."

"FBI aren't here yet."

Why the fuck not?

"What?" I yell over the gunfire and lift, taking out a Baldassare soldier about to target Nathan.

Mack waves out his arm and we drop. Smokes fills the warehouse as I cover my mouth with my shirt.

Connor holds up his hand to me. Five.

Five minutes? The FBI is five whole minutes away? That's a fucking eternity in a situation like this.

What the hell happened? They were supposed to be here.

The gunfire stops—nobody is shooting into the smoke—so Connor and I climb out from behind the crates. I grab a rifle that's dropped on the ground and run downstairs.

"Wait," Decker says from behind me. I turn, staring at him in question. "Don't open the cell doors."

He's staring at the women trying to hide his disgust, but it would take a cold man to achieve that.

"Braxton!" I hear Amy's call and turn.

"We have to let them out," I yell back at Decker.

"Trust me. Wait for the feds." He lays a heavy hand on my shoulder. "They're in shock and will run. Not my first fucking rodeo, pal."

Plus, there is gunfire above us.

Shit, he's right.

I shake my head and make my way down to Amy. She begins to sob, reaching through the bars for me. I grip her arms and stare at her stained face.

"Buttercup," I say, tears building in my eyes.

Fuck, I can't believe I found her.

"I've got you. I've got you," I say, letting the tears finally fall down my face.

Then she collapses on the ground, and I crouch on the floor holding her until the feds arrive.