Chapter 16 Into The Light
❦ Rosalind ❦
Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit.
Viktor drifted in and out of consciousness, his eyes closed, and I slapped him awake.
“Don’t go into the light!” I yelled over the din.
His soldatos exchanged fire with gunmen across the pool, and Dante was nowhere to be seen.
My head roared with fear and confusion. Were they after me, or Viktor? He’d taken bullets, and somehow I thought they were after him. Otherwise I’d be the one shot. Or maybe they had bad aim, like me.
Shaking the thoughts off, I clutched my Kimber pistol, eyes shifting wildly around the commotion.
Seeing no one approach us, I picked up a piece of shattered glass and, with it, tore a strip of fabric from my dress.
“Don’t you dare die, mister!”
I tied knots at his shoulder and upper thigh to stop the blood flow, ignoring the thickness of his legs and how I had to raise one with my hand to get the makeshift rope under it.
But when I squatted behind him and tried to lift him to his feet, I lost my footing and slammed my butt on the hard tiled floor.
“Ow!”
The man weighed a ton. And as I looked around, noting the preoccupied men all exchanging bullets like gifts at a cookout, I realized no one was free to help me. I had to decide whether to leave him.
But if it was him they were after, any enemy who came across him unconscious would finish the job without hesitation. That didn’t seem fair. He had protected me, covering my body with his without a second thought.
Rubbing my butt, I grabbed my own glass of rosé and fed it to him, splashing the remaining contents on his face. Then I slapped him again.
His eyes flew open, then he took in the situation.
“Are you okay?” he asked, running a hand down my front as if checking for wounds.
“It’s not my blood, it’s yours,” I yelled as he looked at my blood-stained dress. “We need to get out of here. Can you walk…”
Before I finished my sentence, he’d stood up and, holding my hand, started to run to the private elevator. I found it so hot, he was shot and bleeding, but still protecting me.
I saw him press an earpiece into his ear that I hadn’t noticed before.
“Did you get him? I’m heading to the elevator. Get out of here as soon as you can.”
I assumed he was talking to Adrian, and I stepped over glass on our way across the floor, wet with blood mixed with drinks.
In the chaotic parking lot, Viktor led me to a sleek black Porsche that whispered as it slid open.
“What’s happening? You said you were here on business. Do you know who just attacked us?” I asked, breathless, as he pulled out of the lot.
“How do you know they weren’t after you, heiress?”
I choked.
“Me?! Did you see the number of assassins there were? They couldn’t have been here for me. I’m just one girl!”
To my surprise, and shock, since he was the one driving, Viktor laughed heartily.
“You’re sitting on a pretty stack of millions. Did you think all the people coming for it would be through marriage? Not all men are that patient, bambina.”
His eyes glinted with an excitement that scared me. He’d just admitted, even if I already knew, that any potential interest I got would be because of the wealth and assets my father left me. And the ones who wouldn’t care to charm me would just kill me for it.
I shivered. The car felt too small, and suddenly, I wanted out.
“Let me out.”
“Are you crazy?”
“Please, let me out.” My breath came in short gasps, my vision shifting and darkening at the edges. Fear clamped down on my chest, making it difficult to breathe.
Seeing my face and struggles, Viktor wound down the window.
“Can you breathe now?” he asked, sounding concerned. “You know I can’t stop. They could be behind us.”
The air rushing in soothed me a bit, and soon, I felt better.
“Yes. Thank you.”
He drove for a long time, the silence in the car stifling.
“Where are we going?” I turned to him. I didn’t have my phone. I’d taken only my pistol, leaving my clutch behind. And somehow, I didn’t regret it. I’d grown attached to the cute weapon.
“My estate.”
“Why not a hospital?”
He cocked his brow.
“Right. They could get us there. Or the police.”
I stared despite myself. His jaw clenched in pain, even if he tried to hide it. His left arm lay limp on his thigh as he drove with his right.
He‘d ripped his shirt off, it had been soaked with blood, and the way that blood coated his chest and pecs in a shimmering red glow…
My heart pounded, but no longer from fear. From something else. Something that lit up in my chest and grew, traveling down my legs and back up.
He was handsome. A rugged type. A thin scar I hadn’t noticed ran from his ear to his cheekbone. His tousled black hair faded on the sides in a brutalist style.
When he flexed his grip on the wheel, a ripple traveled up the muscles of his arm, drawing my gaze like a shadow to darkness.
“Can you take a bullet out?”
My drooling mouth snapped shut. “W-what?”
He glanced at me, clearly irritated.
“You’ll have to help me take the bullets out. Are you squeamish?”
“I tied up your wounds. Does it look squeamishly done?” I snapped, turning my attention to the road.
“It’s cutting off my circulation.”
“A simple thank you would have sufficed.”
He sighed, pulling up to a wide, statue-lined driveway that led to a large, iron-wrought gate.
The gate closed behind us, and he stepped out of the car. When I stepped out and circled the car to join him, he was catching his breath. His muscled chest rising and falling, hypnotic. Hot…
“If you keep looking at me like that, you’ll end up panting like me.”
My cheeks flushed hotly.
The dim mood lights around the mini fortress stretched our shadows behind us as we approached, his good shoulder over mine as I supported him toward the house.
He tried very hard not to put his weight on me. And as I marveled at how considerate it made him look, the front door opened.
And a young man stepped out.
He was holding a shotgun.
My blood froze as he lifted the muzzle to us…
And pulled the trigger.