Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 128290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Enzo’s head whips my way, and he yanks back, watching as the man crumbles to his knees. I make a show of blowing on the gun like they do in the movies, knowing if he inspects my target closer—he absolutely will when all is said and done—he’ll find the bullet is perfectly placed, dead center in the man’s forehead.
He shakes his head, ducking when a guy charges at him, delivering a deadly blow with his heavy fist.
“Enzo Fikile!” booms over a load speaker, and everyone settles, the gunfire pausing. “Stand. Down.”
Ice runs through my veins at the voice, because it’s one I know well.
No way he turned against us, and by us…I mean the Fikile family, and by extension my father.
“Get the fuck out here and explain yourself!” Enzo demands, spitting to the side.
“And get shot by the forty-seven men you have surrounding this place? Or the three snipers now on the roof?” the traitor deadpans.
I look up and sure enough, bandana-wielding men are right there, not bothering to hide their big-ass guns they’ve got perched on the old brick structure.
Another car comes to a screeching halt somewhere behind us, and when I peek over, I curse.
Rocklin and the other Greyson girls file out, along with all the rest of their gang.
Bastian stays at my sister’s side; Hayze trails Bronx as she runs full sprint in six-inch heels through the parking lot, her white gown now cut all the way to her hip. To her left, I spot Damiano, and my pulse thrums manically when I realize where he’s headed.
If my sister is in on this…
I swallow the thought, breathing deep as I train my gun on the back of his head, watching to see if he dares to pull a weapon as he rushes toward my husband.
Enzo sees him coming and doesn’t bother angling his body, so he must not see him as a threat of any kind. Still, I keep my weapon poised as they exchange words I can’t hear, and then Dom is rushing toward the black car at the farthest edge. When he reaches inside, pulling someone out by the hand, I frown. Katana.
She looks frazzled, staring up at him with confused, watery eyes, but she allows him to lead her back to the car they pulled up in and stuff her inside.
He turns, holding guard against the window.
What is that about?
“Hey, so.” I jolt, spinning my arm, dagger flying out, but my wrist is caught with faster than fast reflexes and then I’m glaring up at Royce Brayshaw. “Damn, girl. Settle down. This face is too pretty to be cut up.”
I tear myself free, putting space between us, and he grins my way.
The gunfire starts up again and I look to find Enzo is at the doors. His back is pressed to the wall beside it, Mino already taking slow steps inside the winery, as the rest of the Fikile soldiers inch forward in a widespread line. One more glance around and I notice my sister, Bastian, and the rest of the girls are nowhere to be found, but I don’t have time to worry about that as Enzo is inching closer to the threshold of the building.
I chew my inner cheek, searching for a way to follow, knowing our men will never allow me to pass if it means putting me in danger. None of them want to die by their boss’s hand today. “Shit,” I hiss.
“As I was about to say,” Royce starts talking again. “I know it’s not really the time, but since we’re hanging out together while getting shot at and shit, gotta shoot my shot.” He lifts his gun, firing without looking, and I hear two hard thumps in quick succession. “No pun intended.” He grins, then gets serious. “You’re a twin, right?”
I scoff, pushing onto my toes and slowly creeping around the right side of the cement blocks.
“Can you, like, read each other’s minds?” he presses.
“What?” I whisper, aiming for one of Mitchell’s men who’s sneaking along the trunks of the cars. I throw my knife, and it cuts through his suit, jamming into his upper arm.
“Fuck!” he shouts, just loud enough for a Fikile soldier to hear.
He goes down a second later.
“I’m just trying to figure out what kind of shit is about to be pulled on me, you know?” The damn annoying, tattooed brother keeps going. “I might need to step up my game, and that’s gonna be hard. My game is on point already.”
“Not the time, Ponyboy!” Raven shouts from somewhere.
“Well?” he nudges, coming around the opposite side and running to the next row of vehicles in sync with me.
I shoot him a glare. “You’re serious?”
“Duh. You saw my girl. You think she’s just walking around with a half-moon stuck inside her? I got two little fuckers in there.”