Series: Renee Rose
Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
She wasn’t supposed to be in the crossfire.
My enemies should not also be hers.
My past is dark, and my demons are dangerous.
I should let her be free, safe from the shadows that still haunt me.
But I can’t let her go.
My obsession is too strong.
She’s mine even though she’s a possession I shouldn’t keep.
But I of all people should know, that the mafia doesn’t let anyone go.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Chapter One
Hannah
A car screeches into the alleyway behind Garden of Eden, my flower shop.
Armando’s cousin, Marco, who was stationed in the alleyway to protect me, whirls, hand reaching for the gun strapped to his side.
I instinctively flinch, my heart stopping. A guy leans out of the open window, gun raised and aimed directly at us. Time seems to slow as Marco's eyes widen with realization. “Get down!” He lunges toward me, throwing me to the cold concrete ground behind the garbage dumpster.
Marco’s body shields mine as the deafening sound of gunfire fills the alleyway. He lifts his gun to return fire, but before he can, he’s hit.
Pain flares in his eyes. His body jerks.
I scream. Blood splatters everywhere, and some of it pools on my legs, hot and sticky.
“Marco!” My voice is barely audible over the cacophony of gunfire hitting the metal dumpster.
My hands tremble as I reach out to touch him, the reality of the situation sinking in. This is no random act of violence—we were targeted.
“Stay down,” he grits through clenched teeth, his body trembling from shock or adrenaline.
Even as his blood pools between us, he never takes his eyes off me, as if determined to protect me at all costs.
Oh God.
I’ve already seen one man die in the last week. Already been exposed to the violence of Armando’s life. But that death felt surreal. Like watching a movie. Marco is a man I know. Armando’s cousin. If he dies–
No, I can’t even think it. He’s still breathing. He seems alert.
Voices shout from the car, "That's not him" and "Go! Go! Go! Go!” It speeds away, leaving a cloud of dust and the sound of squealing tires as the only evidence of the drive-by.
That’s not him.
They were trying to kill Armando, and they came to my shop. To the alleyway behind it. Does that mean they’ve connected me to him?
Is he no longer safe in my apartment?
That thought chokes me.
Marco's blood keeps draining, staining my clothes and skin. He groans and rolls partway off me, trying to push himself up.
“Take it easy. I’ll call for help.”
I search for my phone and see it cast to the side. Armando. I was speaking to Armando before this all happened.
“Armando!” I cry out, trying to pull my legs out from under Marco’s. “Armando, Marco’s hit!” Maybe he can still hear what's happening and now knows we are both alive but in danger.
Almost as if summoned by my voice, Armando appears at the mouth of the alleyway, his eyes wide with panic. He takes in the scene before him—Marco injured and me covered in blood and shaking uncontrollably.
"Hannah!" He runs to us, but his gaze is only on me.
“I'm okay, but Marco's hit."
“Madonna mia, what the fuck happened?” He crouches beside us, his hands hovering over Marco, like he’s unsure where to touch or how to help. Fear is etched on his pale face, a vulnerability I've never seen from him before.
“Your buddies,” Marco groans, shifting to sit up and gritting his teeth against the pain. “They came out of nowhere.”
“Did you get a chance to see who they were?” Armando demands. I can see the gears turning in his head, already planning retaliation.
“I-I don't know,” I stammer, still in shock. “I didn't see their faces.”
“Fuck.” Armando's gaze shifts between Marco and me, his concern palpable. “We need to get you both somewhere safe. Can you walk?”
“Of course I can walk,” Marco scoffs, trying to climb to his feet. His face contorts with pain, and he collapses back onto the ground. Armando's jaw clenches, and he picks up Marco’s arm to wrap around his shoulder, heaving him to his feet.
“Yeah, you're not walking anywhere like this.”
I move to the other side of Marco to help. Together, we manage to hoist Marco to his feet, each of us taking one of his arms over our shoulders.
“Mando,” Marco says quietly, his voice strained. “I didn’t see it coming.”
“We’ll worry about that later,” Armando clips. “Right now, we need to focus on getting you both out of here.”
As we half-carry, half-drag Marco out of the alleyway toward my shop, my thoughts whirl with a gut-wrenching realization: my life has become irrevocably intertwined with this dangerous world and the man who brought me into it. Not that witnessing him kill a man with his bare hands hadn’t already bound us together.
Blood soaks the back of Marco’s leg, and I see Armando take it in, his nostrils flaring. “We need to get you to the hospital,” he says.
“I'm fine,” Marco insists through gritted teeth as I try to steady him on his feet. “Just get one of the guys to dig the bullet out.”
“Shut up,” Armando snaps. “I’m taking you to the hospital. Give me your keys.” He props his cousin up against the brick wall by my back door.