My stomach roils, but I keep fighting and swallow the pain and keep my head held high. I slam my fist up into his face, knocking him backward.
Don Caruso stumbles but catches himself. He’s not going down that easily, but he’s dropped the gun, and it’s slid across the floor. He’s a trained fighter. It comes with the territory of being part of the mafia.
“I’m going to make your whore my wife,” Luka threatens, lowering his head and barreling into my chest, knocking me backward into the wall.
I grab Luka by the hair, ripping him away from my body before kneeing him in the groin and kicking him in the stomach as he’s doubled over. He drops to the ground, reaching for the abandoned gun on the floor.
Shit.
I dive for the weapon, but I’m too late.
He’s quicker, spins around on the floor, and points the barrel up at me, finger on the trigger.
Bang!
Pain sears through me before I crumble to the floor.
Darkness.