“What the fuck is your problem?”
Lucio shrugged. “I don’t have a problem. Do you have a problem?”
I had to smother a laugh. If pissing these guys off was Lucio’s plan, I’d guess it was fucking working.
“Listen, man,” one of the men took an intimidating step forward, “just fuck off before we hand your ass to you on a silver fucking platter.”
Lucio seemed offended. “No need for violence. I just need to see a certain Layla Moore for a teeny-tiny second.”
I saw the guy at the back move his hand under his jacket. On instinct, I reached and placed my hand on my own weapon. I appreciated Lucio’s little display of balls, but going on a shooting spree at the side of the road in broad daylight was not ideal.
Lucio held up his hands in a mock surrender. “Whoa. No need for that. I just—” And then he darted toward the stairs, rushing past the men before they tackled him to the ground. He thrashed and fought, but when his eyes met mine, he winked. That was when I realized he was creating a diversion for me to slip into the house. Sly motherfucker.
While Lucio kept the three men busy—by getting his ass kicked—I rushed around the house to the back door. I knew there was another guy in there with Layla and Kate, so I grabbed my gun and slowly eased the door open, peeking inside.
Voices came from the direction of the living room, and I softly stepped inside, keeping my gun at the ready. Every step was slow and calculated. I could not fuck this up and let Lucio get his ass beaten to a pulp for nothing.
“What is going on, Layla?” I heard Kate’s voice.
“You know I can’t tell you that.” My heart skipped a beat when I heard Layla. I moved through the kitchen and placed my back against the wall by the door.
“How do you expect me to accept that? After all this time?”
“I know it’s a lot. And I’m sorry I’m dragging you into my mess.” I heard the remorse in her voice, the regret. It made me want to take her into my arms and never let go. “But I had no other option,” Layla continued. “You are the only family I have left. I had no choice but to come to you for help.”
“Does Dante know?”
“He knows I’m here, yes.”
“Does he know everything?”
I inched to the side, peeking around the corner. Kate was sitting on the couch with Layla standing before her.
“No, he doesn’t.”
“You need to tell him, Layla. He needs to know.”
What the fuck was Kate talking about?
A movement at the entrance caught my eye. It was the bodyguard shifting from one leg to other before clearing his throat. He was paying careful attention to the women, and I got the feeling he wasn’t happy with their conversation.
Layla looked at him before letting her head down. “I need to see this through, Kate. I have no choice. It’s the only way I can protect him.”
The sound of glass shattering came from outside, and the bodyguard rushed to the window. “Fuck. Come on.” He grabbed Layla’s arm and started to drag her toward the door.
“He said I had twenty minutes,” Layla pleaded.
“We’re leaving. Now.”
“Stop!” She tried to jerk her arm free from his hold. “You’re hurting me.” And that was when the possessive fuck in me took over.
I ran into the living room aiming my gun. “Take your fucking hands off her.”
He twisted her arm and slammed her back against him, holding his arm around her throat, his gun against her temple. “Take another step and I’ll blow her fucking brains out.”
I stepped to the side, slowly making my way toward Kate, who had fallen to the floor. “If you so much as hurt a fucking hair on her head, I will cut you up and send the pieces to your mother for her fucking birthday.”
“Dante,” Layla breathed out, “what are you doing here?”