I ignored her. I focused all my attention on the fucker behind her, never taking my eyes off him.
“Let her go, and I’ll allow you to leave here with both your balls.”
He tightened his hold around her neck. “I have three men waiting outside. There’s no way you’ll be able to get out of here alive.”
A click sounded from behind him. “Think again, motherfucker.”
“Layla, get down!” I yelled, and she dropped to the floor the second the gunshot went off. Blood spattered against the wall, and the bodyguard’s lifeless body dropped, Lucio standing behind him with the gun.
I rushed across the room toward where Layla was crouched, crying as she frantically tried to get the blood off her face.
“Layla.” I leaned down, placing my hands on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”
She looked up at me, tears streaming down her face, her golden hair covered in streaks of crimson. “Dante. What have you done?”
Chapter 11
Layla
I was covered in blood. A dead man was lying beside me, crimson staining the laminated floors as his blood pooled around him. My heart was beating so fast, so loud, it was all I heard. Everything else was on mute. Dante was rushing toward me, but in my view, it all happened in slow motion. For a few seconds, my thoughts were scrambled, my mind confused, yet alert.
Adrenaline burned as it swooshed through my veins, my chest rapidly rising and falling with every breath. Nothing about the scene that played out in front of me made any sense. Everything was wrong. The harder I tried to pull my mind from the fog, the more I realized Dante had played right into his hands.
“Layla, are you okay?”
I focused my gaze on his face—the face I had fallen so helplessly in love with so many years ago. The face I still loved.
“Dante.” My voice was nothing more than a rush of air. “What have you done?”
If only he knew. If only he knew how much was at stake—how deep all of this went. Every molecule of my being wanted to tell him. I wanted to scream at him, to let him understand this all was so much bigger than just us.
I was losing control. I was losing the fight against those who threatened everything I loved.
Dante wiped at my cheek—probably trying to get the blood off my face—before running his hand down my arm, wrapping his fingers around my elbow. “Come on. We have to go. Now.”
I pulled back. “No. I can’t go with you.”
He frowned in confusion. “Layla, there’s no time. We need to leave.”
“No, Dante. You don’t understand.”
“The one thing I do understand is if we don’t leave right now, a whole lot of shit is going to come raining down all around us within the next few minutes.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw a man helping Kate up from the floor, and he glanced our way. “Dante, bro, we need to leave, pronto.”
Dante pulled me to my feet. “Layla, I know something is going on. Matteo is using you to get to me somehow, but you need to trust me. You need to trust that whatever it is Matteo has over you, I can help you.”
With every heartbeat and every breath, I wanted to believe I could trust in Dante. That I could share my burden with him and not feel so damn alone. But deep down I knew I was in too deep, too far gone for anyone to help me now.
I jerked my arm free from his grip. “You can’t help me. No one can.”
Kate stood next to the man across the room, tears running down her face. “For God’s sake, Layla. Tell him.”
“I can’t, Kate. You know what’s at stake,” I argued.
“Exactly. And he has a right to know.”
Dante glanced from me to Kate, then back to me, confusion plastered on every contour of his face. “Okay, whatever the fuck you two are talking about, we don’t have time right now.” He grabbed me around my waist and pulled me up, throwing me over his shoulder.