Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 94915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Julien tilts his head. “Backup?” He looks around the room. “My men are all here at the mansion.”
“There are vans outside. Four big black vans.” Ronan stands and walks to the window. “What the fuck—”
A gunshot cracks out. The window shatters and Ronan staggers back, cursing.
All hell breaks loose. Niall dives on Ronan, dragging him down, as bullets scream in through the windows and the wall. Julien’s on top of me, knocking me down to the floor and covering me with his body. It’s the day Kim got hit by the truck all over again as bullets spray the far wall from outside. There’s shouting in the other room and when the shooting stops, my ears are ringing from the noise.
Julien’s moving. “Get up,” he growls at me, dragging me to my feet. “Jean! Defenses! Get everyone down here right fucking now.” He pulls me from the room. I catch a glimpse of Niall and Ronan, and I don’t know if Ronan’s still alive or not. There’s blood on the floor and on Niall’s shirt.
But I don’t have time to find out. Julien shoves me at the stairs, his lips pulled back in a rage-filled snarl.
“What’s going on?” I gasp at him as he forces me up.
Jean and some of the soldiers are gathering in the entry hall, facing the door.
“Dusan,” Julien says, cursing to himself. “He must’ve heard about the coup and he decided to hit while we were weak. But I don’t understand who would have—” He stops once we reach the top and laughs bitterly. “Pascal, that wily bastard. He’s the only one that could’ve passed the word along. He’s using Dusan to handle his fucking problem for him. The clever piece of shit.”
“What do we do?” I ask, freaking out so much I can barely think.
“Run to Kim’s room,” he says, grabbing my shoulders. “Do you hear me? Run and don’t look back. Tell Helga what’s happening. Get out of the mansion if you can.”
“But Kim. We can’t move Kim.”
“Then leave her behind.” Julien’s expression is cold. “You’re everything to me, baby. You have to get out.”
“I won’t leave her. I can’t leave her. Julien, please—”
He crushes my mouth in a rough kiss.
“Go,” he says, pushing me.
I stagger, taking a few steps, and watching as he turns back to the stairs. He draws his gun.
“Julien,” I say quietly, blinking back tears.
“Run, baby,” he says, and the shooting starts again.
Chapter 37
Julien
Dusan’s men assault the front door, but we fight them off.
Unfortunately, there aren’t enough soldiers on their feet to cover the rear as well. As soon as the Serbians decide to go around the rear, we’re spread too thin. The shooting and screams echo down the hallways, and I force Jean to fall back.
“What happened in there?” he asks as we get our remaining soldiers to the second floor. It’s not ideal, but we’ll be able to hold the high ground better.
“Ronan got hit. Niall’s helping him.”
“Once Dusan’s inside, they’re fucked.”
“There’s a door to the side hall. If Niall’s smart, he’ll get them out and into the basement. They can hole up down there.”
“That’s a lot of guesses. Fuck, if Ronan’s dead—”
“We’ll deal with that if it happens.”
Jean’s right to worry though. If Ronan gets killed in my mansion during a fight my own family started, that is going to send shockwaves through this city. Forget about a drug connection—there’s no way the Biancos will be able to stay out of it anymore.
They’ll crush us just to stop the violence from spreading.
This is bad. This is very bad. I never imagined Pascal would stoop so low, but it’s the only logical explanation. He must’ve tipped Dusan off as he escaped, and the wily fucking Serb was smart enough to come take advantage of my weakened position.
Now, Pascal gets to run away, while I’m trapped in this fucking building, my men spread thin and too bloodied to mount a reasonable defense.
I leave Jean in charge of the front staircase and go to check the back. There’s sporadic shooting, but the Serbians haven’t tried to push upstairs in earnest yet. That’ll happen soon—they’re just clearing the bottom floor first. My soldiers are in good positions though, and I have to hope we can hold out.
But for what? I rack my brain trying to come up with allies that might be able to help. Ronan’s downstairs, shot and maybe dead. The Biancos aren’t an option. The former head of the Polish mafia is dead, and his family isn’t getting involved in any wars as they figure out their own internal issues. I’d rather castrate myself than call Marco, our former friend, and the bastard that betrayed us in the end. The motorcycle clubs are in disarray after one of their biggest gangs was slaughtered last year.
It’s a fucking mess. And nobody’s coming.