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Kingpin's Property

Page 7

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Moonlight fell on her face, and I recognized her: Marisol, a maid who had worked for me for the last nine months. The petite beauty had caught the attention of many of my brother’s more disgusting associates, and I’d protected her from their lecherous interests.

She stared up at me, her large, dark eyes wild. Her rosebud lips parted as she gasped for air.

A harsh shout dragged my attention away from her, and I pivoted to face the fucker who had tried to rape her. He took a lurching step toward me, off-balance after the nice dent I’d put in his head.

That didn’t stop the enraged beast from coming at me. Something hot and feral raced through my system, poisonous hatred that made me infinitely stronger. My lips peeled back in a ferocious snarl, and I widened my stance, tightening my grip on the ice pick. Bashing his skull with the heavy statue hadn’t done the trick. A long, thin blade embedded in his brain would put him down for good.

More gunshots rent the air, closer than ever. The man’s body jerked twice and dropped, his hulking form motionless on the floor.

I spun to face the new threat, my fingers clutched tight around my weapons.

Air solidified in my lungs, and I froze. Stefano stood in the open doorway, a gun raised in his steady hand. Other than his controlled stance, nothing about the madman resembled the refined Stefano Duarte I’d come to know and hate over the years. His black hair was in disarray; blood was smeared around his sculpted lips; moonlight caught in his black eyes, making them burn with white-hot, twin flames.

Another explosion rocked the manor, sending books tumbling off the shelves. Hundreds of heavy, leather-bound volumes hit the floor in thunderous waves. A chandelier crashed in the hallway behind Stefano, crystal shattering against the hardwood floor.

This wasn’t a warzone; it was the fucking apocalypse. My world was ending, and I was ready to die along with it.

I lifted my chin and glared at Stefano, defiant to my last breath.

Chapter 3

Stefano

Carmen’s defiant stare stoked the fire raging through my veins. I’d seen that expression before, usually on the faces of proud men facing their inevitable deaths. Her gray eyes glittered with malice, her thick lashes narrowed.

“There’s nowhere to run,” I ground out, my cultivated, smooth tone completely garbled by the strange, visceral sensation of claws shredding my lungs from the inside. “The house is collapsing. Let’s go.”

“No,” she hissed. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

An animal sound slipped through my gritted teeth. “Rodríguez is burning this place to the ground. No one will be left alive by morning.” I kept my gun raised, even though I would never shoot her. For now, it served as a deterrent to prevent her from attacking me with the ice pick and the bloody gold statue she clutched in her hands. We didn’t have time to waste sparring.

“You’re coming with me.” The command lacked my usual silky threat, leaving me on a shout. “If you stay here, you’ll die.”

Her fingers flexed around her makeshift weapons, and she held her ground. “I’m staying. I’d rather die than be your pet.”

My jaw clenched tight enough to crack my teeth. Had I actually relished the idea of conquering Carmen’s defiance? Her suicidal stubbornness drove me close to irrational madness. I was always fully in control of my actions, blessed by a natural lack of emotional responses. The twist in my gut and wrenching pain at the center of my chest were utterly foreign and deeply unnerving.

One coherent imperative burned in my brain: I wouldn’t allow Carmen to die.

A small, shadowy form appeared behind Carmen’s shoulder. I shifted my aim, stilling my finger on the trigger an instant before I fired the gun.

Carmen edged to the side, shielding the petite woman with her own body. Her lush lips curled, baring her teeth at me in a feral challenge.

I managed to draw a full breath, filling my ravaged lungs. Now that I had a means of taking Carmen out of this crumbling ruin, the debilitating physical symptoms that had ravaged my mental clarity began to ease.

I didn’t need a weapon anymore; I had leverage. Carmen obviously cared about the woman’s safety.

“What about her?” I demanded, pushing at Carmen’s weak point. “Are you willing to let her die?”

Carmen’s slender body practically vibrated with fury. “You son of a bitch. I knew you were an evil bastard, but I didn’t think you were capable of murdering an innocent woman.”

“I won’t have to murder her,” I informed Carmen flatly. “Everything and everyone on this estate is being destroyed. That will include your friend. You might not care about dying, but you do care about her survival. Come with me, and I’ll get you both out of here safely.”

“Surrendering myself to you isn’t safe,” Carmen spat.



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