“Good, because I’m far from done,” I mutter as I glance around the entrance hall, vigilant for the slightest sign of movement.
“We’ll take the first floor,” Viktor says, and he and Luca head up the stairs, their backs to the wall and guns raised. Andreas and I move into the living room.
Gunfire keeps rattling the air.
‘Breaching from the kitchen,’ Alexei’s voice comes over my earpiece.
“We’re in the living room,” I tell them, so they don’t fucking shoot us by accident, should we cross paths.
Shots ring from upstairs, and it has Andreas and me moving faster, on guard as we enter a study.
“Nothing,” Andreas mutters.
I motion for him to keep quiet, then point at another door. We inch our way closer, guns at shoulder level. My heart pounds in my chest as my breaths slow down.
Slowly, I reach for the doorknob. I lock eyes with Andreas, and as he nods, his gun trained on the door, I shove it open.
Both Andreas and I fire just as another shot hits my vest, this time making me stagger two steps back.
Andreas darts forward, opening fire and spraying the room with bullets, but then he takes a shot to his left thigh and drops to his knee. The sight of my friend going down tears a roar from me. I empty the clip of my machine gun, and reaching for my Glock, I continue forward until I get to the now dead body of a guard.
“Save your ammo,” Andreas snaps. “He’s dead.” He lets out a chuckle. “Fuck, it stings like a bitch.”
Unbuckling my belt, I yank it from the loops and crouch by Andreas. I quickly tie the leather around his thigh, making sure it’s tight as fuck, then wrap an arm around his back, helping him to his feet.
“You good?” I ask.
“Yeah.”
“Any sign of Manno?” I ask into the earpiece as we start to move out of the room.
‘Nothing.’ The answers come one after the other.
Chapter 44
Nikolas
Just as I cautiously walk by a set of sliding doors, I see a group of men making a run for the left boundary wall of the property.
Not wasting a second, I shoot the doors open and break out into a run. “I’ve got eyes on Manno. Left side of the house,” I tell the other men, and then I open fire on the group, dropping two guards before they start returning fire.
Someone takes out three of the men, then Manno fucking trips over his feet, plowing into the lawn. Ricco aims his weapon at me, but I fire two shots, one hitting his hip, the other his right arm.
As Manno struggles to his feet, I let out an enraged chuckle, death cloaking the sound in darkness. “Finally.” I drop the machine gun, and taking hold of my Glock, I press the barrel to his head. “Why are you running, Manno? You’ll have me thinking you’re scared of me,” I taunt him.
With my men guarding my back, I nod toward the house. “Move. Back inside so we can talk.”
Manno and Ricco are disarmed and forcefully pushed back to the house. Once they’re kneeling in the living room, Viktor disappears back up the stairs while the other men of the Priesthood stand and watch what I’m about to do.
“You should’ve fled the continent, Antonio,” Liam chuckles. “Did you really think you could take on the Priesthood?”
“Fuck you,” the old man spits, hatred burning in his eyes.
“Sorry, you’re not my type,” Liam retorts.
Viktor comes back into the living room with a girl firmly in his grip. She puts up one hell of a struggle in his arms, and it gets a violent reaction from Manno.
“Don’t fucking touch her! She has nothing to do with this.”
Unable to control my anger, I kick Manno in the gut. “But you fucking tried to kill my wife and sister?”
Viktor presses the barrel of his Heckler and Koch to the girl’s head which has her stilling in his hold. With his voice filled with amusement, he asks, “What’s your name, little one?”
The girl can’t be much older than eighteen. With a vicious glare, she mutters, “Rosalie.”
Viktor takes a deep breath of her hair. “Hmm. Little Rose. You smell mouthwatering.”
“Fuck you,” she growls at Viktor, trying to headbutt him, but it only earns her a burst of laughter from him.
“I need plastic bags,” I say to no one in particular.
“On it, boss,” one of my soldiers replies, running in the direction of the kitchen.
Tucking my Glock in the back of my pants, I take the K-Bar from the holster around my thigh.
Knowing it will hurt Manno, I slowly stalk closer to Ricco. Manno makes a mistake when he allows me to see the panic in his eyes.
“I’m going to assume Ricco is not only your nephew but your right-hand man, right?” I don’t expect an answer.