Bad Medicine (Underworld Kings)

“Maxwell!” Bella cries, the same relief I’m feeling evident in the one word, as he jerks open the door and yanks the driver out by the back of his collar, his hands lifting in surrender.

Then she squeaks in surprise when her own door is pulled open, her body leaning toward mine as my gun swings toward the man who was in the passenger seat of the other vehicle. The older man raises his hands just like Ferro’s henchman did, but with one look at his face, I lower the weapon, and Bella cries out once again, this time in happy shock. “Daddy?”

“Come here, my baby,” he says, reaching across her to unbuckle her seatbelt before pulling her out of the seat and into a hug that doesn’t allow her feet to touch the ground.

Ferro is still a whimpering heap in the front seat, so I exit the vehicle through Bella’s open door, handing Maxwell the gun when he comes back, I assume from restraining the other fucker before throwing him in the back of Marcello’s SUV. I reach up and pull his suit jacket away from his body, taking a peek at the bullet wound I see in the space between his shoulder and chest.

“Aren’t you a little old to be playing opossum?” I ask him with a smirk, smacking him on the back before pulling him into a brotherly hug.

“I planned to play dead until the assholes took you two, and then I was going to follow after you in the car. But before I could get up and into the driver seat, her old man came hauling ass and screeching to a stop next to me. Scooped me up, and now here we are,” he explained, and we both look over to where her dad still has her in a tight embrace.

“How did you know where to find us?” I ask Marcello, because I can’t figure out how he knew we were in danger for one, and exactly where to go to help us at the very last minute for another.

His lips tug upward at one corner, his hand rubbing up and down Arabella’s back as she looks up at him to get the answer as well. “The envelope of pictures. There’s a small tracking device inside. It was more luck, really. I knew she’d confront you with the photos, and I was hoping you would take them away from her and we’d be able to track your movements more closely—you stealthy bastard.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “Little did I know just how handy that chip would be in catching the fucker we were both after.”

As if it’s the first time it registers in his head that Ferro is present, Marcello’s brows lower, and he looks toward the passenger seat. Arabella pulls out of his embrace, stepping toward Maxwell and holding her hand out, palm up. He eyes her for a moment, and she must glance down at the gun he’s holding, because he follows her gaze to it before placing it in her hand.

Without a word, Bella spins on her heel, marches up to the front passenger side of the SUV, and yanks open the door. I watch, mesmerized, as she lifts her hand holding the gun with perfect form.

“Ara—” I hear Ferro’s barely audible whimper, but he doesn’t even get her full name out before she pulls the trigger, her face a blank, emotionless mask.

She walks casually back to Maxwell, holds the handgun out toward him grip-first, and he takes it, his mouth slightly open in shock. She spins and steps between her dad and him, sending a smile my way as if she didn’t just finish off the motherfucker who wanted her dead.

“I’m famished. What’s for dinner, guys?” she asks, and I let out a bark of laughter as I reach toward her, grasp her forearm, and yank her against me.

“Whatever the fuck you want, piccolina.”

Her dad is the only one who looks unfazed by her actions as he pulls his cell out of his pocket and hits a button. With a few murmured words, he orders his men to track his vehicle and to come as quickly as possible to clean up the mess. When he hangs up, his face is full of pride as he tells her, “That’s my little mafia princess.” And I feel her melt into me.

23

Arabella

The Ruin went to war after everything happened, now that the two families are enemies again. Didn’t matter that Ferro betrayed me as his wife and hired DeLuca to kill me. The war started.

My father demanded we go into hiding. I protested, knowing it would mean my love would have to give up his job as a doctor, at least here, for now. My love—that idea still makes me chuckle. My captor. My keeper. My man. Now, my love. A killer of evil at night and a savior of angels by day.