Ruthless Heir: Chapter 4
Ruthless Heir: A Dark Mafia Romance (Ruthless Dynasty Book 1)
What the fuck was I thinking?
Even as I pack into the back of the black van with a half-dozen other men, rifle slung over my shoulder, Glock loaded and stuffed beneath my belt, switchblade strapped to each ankle, I know the foolish answer to my questions.
I wasnât thinking.
I was acting.
I was trying to intimidate Bianca into keeping her pretty little mouth shut.
But it wasnât so I could hold onto my life.
No. The truth is even more cowardly than that. And it rages around in the back of my skull like a fucking grenade as the van door shuts behind me and the engine rumbles below my feet.
Shit. Iâve never cared much about living or dying. All thatâs ever really mattered to me is getting what I deserve; what I want; what I need.
And in that precarious moment, spent two feet away from the crystal blue eyes that haunt me even now, I only wanted one thing. Hell, I only needed one thing.
Her.
And I was willing to do whatever it took to get my way.
Thatâs the truth.
Fucking hell.
My chest stirs as the armored van peels out of the Byrne compound, rattling the metal floors and shaking the truckloads of ammo weâve each brought along with us.
But our firepower is only the start.
Before I jumped into the back of this van, I helped load three others with more weapons and ammo than Iâve ever seen in my lifeâand thatâs fucking saying something.
I can still smell the metal and the oil.
It lingers just beneath another scent. A scent that has joined those unescapable blue eyes⦠and those plump pink lips.
Blood rushes below my waist as I remember how close I was to her. Close enough to smell her. Close enough to taste her.
Iâd never been so tempted in my entire life.
Fuck. Her vanilla scent still swirls around my head, even as I desperately try to singe it away so that I can concentrate on what matters right fucking now.
I need to figure out what the fuck is going on. And fast. Because whatever it is, itâs big.
Weâre essentially moving an armyâs worth of firepower.
And with it, weâre towing along a fragile little princess whoâs heir to the most powerful mafia empire on the west coast.
That vanilla scent caught on the wind while I was loading the last van. When I looked over my shoulder, I saw that lion Rian Kilpatrick, and his eagle-hawk of an uncle, Maksim Smolov, accompanying a still shaken Bianca to the black escalade that was parked behind the very van that Iâm in now.
Fuck.
I take a deep but subtle breath and try to calm my nerves.
When Maksim barged into Biancaâs bedroom, I thought that I had been made.
He looked furious. And his fury immediately fell onto me.
I was just about ready to fight my way out of there.
Fortunately, it was a false alarm.
Still, my little meeting was cut short before I could sink my claws any further into the princess. But it wasnât a complete loss.
I still got close enough to flick one of Rozâs tracking devices in her direction.
âDo you know where weâre headed?â
The sudden question comes from Seamus Giles, the man to my right. Heâs a big Irish lug with a tiny little voice. Over the course of our training, Iâve learned that heâs a man who asks too many questions. That should have disqualified him long ago. Yet here he is. Bugging me.
âWhy would I know?â I grunt.
âI saw you go up to Biancaâs room with Rian Kilpatrick earlier,â Giles whispers, as if itâs some big secret and heâs doing me a great favor by keeping it quiet. âI figured he was grooming you for some important position.â
âNo,â I shake my head. âHe just needed someone to unclog her toilet.â
âDonât they have maids for that?â
âWhat do youââ
Before I can get another word out, a skull-rattling blast erupts somewhere outside. A split-second later, the van is lifted into the air, and every man is thrown to the ceiling.
Somehow, Giles gets there first, and I only hit my head against his gut, instead of the hard, bullet proof interior.
Thereâs no time to be thankful, though, because weâre thrown around again.
The van is flipping.
Fucking hell.
Grabbing onto the strap of Gilesâ rifle, I pull myself into his body so that he takes the brunt of the contact as we twist and turn.
It feels like a chaotic eternity before the rolling finally stops. Then, just like that, weâre all tossed into one final pile of bodies and weapons.
Groans replace the sound of shearing metal inside the van. Outside, a gunfight has already erupted.
âShit,â I curse, pushing myself off Gilesâ twisted body. âAre you alright?â
When he opens his mouth to respond, only blood pours out.
The poor bastardâs eyes are wide open, and I spot a familiar realization in them.
The big lug is desperately trying to move. But he canât.
Behind me, I hear the surviving members of my crew cough and curse as they crawl over each other to open the slanted van door. Just before they can manage it, though, I pull out my gun and put a bullet right between Gilesâ eyes.
âWhat the fuck was that?!â someone shouts, after the sound of the gunshot has faded.
âGabriel, you asshole!â someone else adds.
I hardly pay them any mind.
âHe was paralyzed,â I growl. âBetter to put him out of his misery quickly. Thereâs a battle to be won. Now, which of you fuckers is going to join me?â
I donât wait for any answers. Pointing my gun up at the mangled handle of the dented van doors, I fire, and they bust open, flinging us into a world of shit.
Immediately, I feel a bullet whiz past my ear. Then I hear it lodge itself into some unlucky bastard behind me.
It only serves to piss me the fuck off.
Iâm not here to die.
Iâm here to reclaim whatâs mine.
And sheâs in trouble.
âProtect the princess!â A voice calls out through the chaos.
Iâm way ahead of him.
Climbing my way out of the busted van, I shoot at everyone and anyone I donât instantly recognize. That leaves a lot of corpses in my wake. But I donât give a shit.
Only one thing matters.
Her.
Somewhere behind me, another explosion shakes the air. The blast nearly knocks me off my feet, but I manage to stumble over to the now-bullet riddled Escalade that Bianca was in earlier.
Ducking down, I take cover so that I can reload. But not before I take a quick glance inside.
Itâs empty.
Shit.
Where the fuck are you, princess?
My answer comes quickly enough. Just as Iâm ready to go again, I hear a shrill scream come from somewhere up ahead. Itâs a womanâs scream, and thereâs only one woman in this entire entourage.
Pouncing out from behind the smoking hood of the black Escalade, I make sure my gun is properly loaded by putting three quick bullets into the nearest motherfucker.
He falls to the ground, instantly dead, and I hurdle over his corpse, racing in the direction of the screaming.
Iâve been in countless battles before. All of my life, Iâve been surrounded by endless violence. Still, something about this moment feels different.
It feels more urgent.
A primal instinct has been unleashed within me. The corners of my vision fill with a deep red, blocking out everything but the way forward.
Another scream cuts through the chaos and into my ears, and I know Iâm close. Then, suddenly, I spot a flash of auburn hair up ahead. It flickers through the chaos, before disappearing around a dark corner.
Bianca.
Itâs hard to say how many men I kill before I reach that corner, but my hands are slippery with blood by the time I take the sharp turn.
I see her.
Up ahead, completely out of place amongst the grime and dirt of the dark alleyway, is the Byrne princess.
Sheâs being manhandled by a group of three soon-to-be dead men. Theyâre violently trying to drag her into the black tunnel at the end of the alleyway.
Something inside of me snaps.
It only takes a single bullet to down the man in the rear of the group. But I canât stop with just one shot. Unloading my clip into his corpse, I propel myself forward, directly into the line of fire.
Fortunately for me, Bianca is putting up a fight. She kicks and screams and bothers the remaining two men just enough to keep them from getting a straight shot at me.
Still, some of their bullets get awfully close, and at one point, I have to drop my gun and hit the ground just to avoid getting shredded.
Without a wasted movement, I roll forward, tearing out the switchblades strapped to my ankles.
âOh shit!â
Those are the last words of the first man I decapitate.
âYou fucking bastard!â yells his doomed friend.
Whipping his gun around, he points the barrel directly in my face. But before he can shoot, the stubborn damsel whoâs hair he has bunched up in his other fist manages to flail hard enough to twist his entire body.
The act seals his fate.
My first blade plunges into his skull through his right eye. My second through his left. He doesnât get the privilege of realizing heâs dead before I grab both handles and rip them from his bloody sockets. Scarlet tears gush down his cheeks as I cross the dirty blades through his throat, so that his severed head hits the ground long before his body does.
My lungs burn as I take a second to stare down at the carnage.
Thenâ¦
âYou.â
Biancaâs voice is almost a whisper.
When I look over at her, my heart drops.
Her olive skin has gone pale. And her immaculate hair is ripped and frizzy. But I donât see any wounds⦠or detect any hostility behind her exclamation. Thatâs good news.
You.
âThatâs right,â I respond, savoring the way she stares at me.
For the first time ever, I donât see any hate in her gaze.
And what a fucking gaze. The beauty in those crystal blue eyes shine out even through the fear; theyâre made even more stunning against the crimson brush strokes splashed against her soft skin.
Is that the blood I just spilled for her?
âRian!â
Her undivided attention quickly snaps away from me, lifting up over my shoulder just as I feel a presence at my back.
Whipping around, blades raised, I get ready to kill again. But Bianca wasnât lying.
Itâs her cousin.
How did I not hear him coming?
You were distracted.
âBianca! Are you alright?â Thereâs an unexpected panic in the lionâs voice.
Hell, I guess heâs human. Thatâs good to know.
âI⦠I think so,â Bianca croaks, her gaze dropping as if to check to make sure sheâs telling the truth. When sheâs sure she is, those crystal blue eyes lift again.
But they donât move back towards her cousin. Instead, they fall onto me.
âHe⦠He saved me,â she mutters, as if itâs almost impossible to believe.
âI know,â Rian responds, looking over his shoulder at me, suspicion and gratitude mixing behind his own blue eyes. âThank you.â
âJust doing my job,â I grumble, slowly becoming aware of the jealous fire rising in my core.
Heâs touching her.
âThe job isnât done yet,â Rian points out. Helping Bianca back to her feet, he hands me his gun.
Thatâs when the blood finally rushes from my ears. Behind us, I hear the battle still raging. Though, itâs instantly clear there arenât many soldiers left.
The gunshots are sparse. But distant enough that Rian and I both have the same thought.
Whoever ambushed us, theyâre retreating. This battle is nearlyâ
Before I can even finish my thought, I hear an all too familiar sound.
A bullet whizzing past my ear.
I blink, and when my eyelids reopen, Bianca is gone.
âNO!â
Somehow, Rian processes whatâs just happened before I can, and he whips around, pulling out another gun from beneath his belt.
The lion is already firing back down the alleyway when my gaze falls onto the body writhing at my feet.
Bianca.
Blood leaks from an unseen wound, staining the alley floor, as she buries her face into the cold, dirty cement below.
The sight stuns me.
For the first time in my life, Iâm not sure how to react, or what to do.
But that hesitation doesnât last long, not after a nuclear bomb erupts inside of me.
My vision red with blood-lust, I turn around, and start to shoot⦠but the clip is empty, and nothing comes out.
Rian handed me a neutered weapon.
Fuck.
âGet her somewhere safe!â the lion roars.
Up ahead, blocking the entrance to the alley way are at least six men. No one challenges them from the rear.
That means all the rest of our men are either dead or gone.
Itâs just Rian and me.
âGo!â he yells again. Each shot he takes is a ticking time bomb. Thatâs a Glock 19 in his hand. It only holds nine rounds. The second heâs out of ammo, weâre fucked.
âIâm on it,â I hear myself say.
Thereâs no time to waste. Ignoring every instinct in me, I resist the urge to fight to the death, to charge the enemy in a suicidal rage.
Instead, I sprawl out over the bleeding princess at my feet. Wrapping her up in my arms, I use my body as a human shield, and race ahead, precious cargo in tow.
â⦠Rian?â
Biancaâs voice is so tiny and faint that Iâm surprised I can even hear it through all the noise. Yet, somehow, it cuts through everything, floating directly into my ear.
At my back, the lion roars.
Instinctively, my embrace around Bianca tightens. Sheâs so warm.
âIâll get you to safety, princess,â I promise. âThen, Iâll fix you up.â
âIâm not a princessâ¦â
Barreling into the black tunnel at the end of the alleyway, Iâm temporarily blinded. But then I spot a sliver of light just up ahead, off to the right.
Thatâs where we head.
Anything to get away from the men back there. Men who donât seem to want anything but blood.
They shot her⦠What kind of fucking morons shoot at something so valuable?
Pushing forward, I try to keep an eye on both the princess in my arms and the light that will lead us out of this darkness.
But while Biancaâs pale face only seems to get paler, the light up ahead never seems to get bigger.
Then, suddenly, I do something Iâve almost never done before.
I trip.
Itâs like an anvil is dropped over my head, and I plunge downwards into the cold blackness. A second later, my knees hit the hard ground. The wave of searing pain that follows quickly shocks me back awake. It hurts like hell, but Iâm comforted when I look down.
Bianca is still in my arms. I didnât drop her. I wonât let her ago.
And I donât, not even after I finally realize why Iâve fallen. My leg. The flesh just above the back of my knee is on fire.
Fuck.
Iâve been hit.
When the hell did that happen?
âGabriel Corso,â Bianca suddenly whispers. A weak little cough follows.
For some reason, her voice pierces my fucking chest. The pain is almost as sharp as the throbbing wound on the back of my leg.
âThatâs not my name,â I hear myself say.
Maybe Iâve already lost too much blood, but the unplanned confession hardly even stuns me.
Still, my hands shake around her as Bianca whispers up at me once more.
âWhat is your name, then?â
The question isnât real. Sheâs falling into a dream. A dream she wonât ever wake up from if I donât do something soon.
But not even that brutal truth stops me from giving her an honest answer.
âI⦠Iâm not sure,â I mumble, before shaking my head clear. âIt doesnât matter. Are you alright?â
âWhatâs happening?â
âYou were shot.â Keeping one hand fastened against the small of her back, I search her body for a wound.
âReally? It doesnât hurtâ¦â
She really is delusional. But so am I.
This is dangerous.
âIt will later,â I assure her, leaving out the part where it will only hurt later if she manages to pull through.
Finally, I find the source of her blood. Itâs spilling from a wound high up on her shoulder. Thatâs a good sign. It means no internal organs were hit. She might survive⦠as long as she doesnât bleed out first.
The thought hits me like a hammer.
No. She wonât die. I wonât allow it.
Iâve worked too hard to get this close to her. Sheâs mine, and there is no escape. Not in life. Not in death.
Iâve finally touched her.
And I only want more.
Thereâs no concern for my own injury as I strip away the strap of her blood-soaked tank top, revealing her fresh wound.
âI canât feel anything,â Bianca sighs.
Shit. I know exactly what that means. Iâm losing her.
The princess needs a shot of electricity. Fast. Something to jolt her awake from the growing darkness before it consumes her forever.
Raising a hand to her pale face, I give her cheek a light slap.
It doesnât do anything.
Those sharp crystal blue eyes are fading. Her bottom lip starts to tremble.
My mind goes blank.
Everything feels so out of my control. Like Iâm stuck in a dream. But I donât fight back as my eyes gently close, and I lean forward, towards the sleeping princess.
With her fragile jaw cupped in the palm of my hand, I kiss her.
Itâs like being injected with morphine. Warm and pleasant, her soft lips press against mine.
Then, she kisses me back.
But the act shocks me back to reality. My eyes rip open and I jump up like Iâve just been hit by lightning.
What the fuck was that?
âThat felt nice,â Bianca whispers, the faintest smile lifting her porcelain cheekbones.
But when her eyelids close, and that crystal blue disappears, I know my reckless act didnât work.
At least, it didnât work on her.
My fading body, on the other hand, has been shot full of electricity.
Before I know it, Iâm back on my feet, unconscious princess fading in my arms. My feet start to move. My lungs start to burn again.
Finally, the light ahead begins to grow.
At my back, I can hear the faintest sound of gunshots. But they donât last long. Someone has won. Everyone else is dead.
Thereâs no point int trying to guess the outcome. All that matters now is us.
And after what feels like an eternity, I finally see whatâs waiting for us on the other side of the black tunnel.
An empty street, spotted by lamplight.
The moment I step out of the tunnel, I start looking for our getaway car. Anything will do. It just needs to be something I can hotwire.
Bianca needs to get to a hospital. I donât care about the consequences.
Before I can find the nearest makeshift ambulance, though, I hear the squealing of tires.
My first instinct is to turn around and get ready for a fightânot that Iâll be of any use with my hands full like this.
Iâm not met with a fight, though. Instead, I spot something completely unexpected.
An oddly familiar looking car screeches to a halt five feet away.
No matter how tinted the front windshield is, I immediately realize who Iâm looking atâeven if I donât understand what the fuck heâs doing here.
Tytus.
Rolling down his window, he pops his head out to greet me.
âWhy, fancy seeing you here, stranger,â he smiles âYou look like hell.â
I donât know what to say. I havenât seen him in months. And all of a sudden he shows up in an empty street, just when I need him the most?
âWell, donât just stand there,â another familiar voice comes from the passenger window. âGet in, loser.â
Itâs Roz.
Her voice slaps me awake.
No matter how confused I am, Iâm not in a position to be picky. I need to get in that car.
Thereâs no going back. Not to Rian. Not to the Byrnes.
My short stint as a bodyguard is over. This whole fucking thing has jumped the shark. All I can do now is put my head down and move forward.
The Byrne princess is finally mine.
But only if I can keep her alive.