When the glass shatters, I scream from pure frustration.
Luca grabs hold of my arm, and then I’m airborne as he throws me over his shoulder. Without me holding him back, he runs faster than I can with a healed leg, shoving anyone and everyone out of his way.
My eyes land on the crimson stain soaking through his shirt.
“Blood,” I cry as I strain against his hold. “Luca, you’re bleeding!”
He keeps running until we exit via a different entrance. Finally, he stops, and breaking the side window of a random car, he unlocks the door and shoves me inside.
Luca slams the door shut, and as he runs around the front, I quickly unlock the driver’s side door. He climbs behind the steering wheel, and luckily the vehicle is an old model, so he manages to hotwire the engine.
Only when the tires are screeching and we’re peeling down the road does he mutter, “I’m fine. He didn’t shoot to kill. They’re only flesh wounds.”
“They? How many?”
His eyes sweep over every inch of me to ensure I didn’t get shot, then he answers, “Two, but I’m fine.”
Now that we’re out of immediate danger the shock of what happened hits. Marco was killed, and who knows how many of the other men.
It’s just Luca and me.
My breaths are shallow, while Luca is deadly calm.
He used his body as a shield to protect me. Jesus.
I don’t know why it surprises me. I know he loves me but seeing with my own eyes that he’s willing to die for me … that does something to my soul
“What do we do now?” I ask. “If we can get to St. Monarch’s, we’ll be safe.”
“I’m going to make sure you get safely on the jet, then I’m going to hunt the fucker and put an end to this.”
My eyes widen. “I’m not leaving you!”
“Mariya,” he snaps, his eyes locked on the road. “I can’t do my job and protect you.”
“I can help,” I argue. “I’ve trained for this all my life.”
When Luca remains quiet, frustration coils in my chest. “I went up against a group of Albanians and survived. You’ve seen what I can do. Let me help.”
He thinks for a moment, then much to my relief, he nods. He pulls the car to the side of a road, a channel of water to our left and a neighborhood to our right.
Taking out his phone, he pulls up a photo. “This is Pavlović. It was taken a year ago. We’re going to arm ourselves to the teeth and hunt the fucker down.”
“Okay.”
Together we can take out the threat so we can enjoy the rest of our damn honeymoon.
Watching my man load a clip into his gun is so freaking hot.
Now’s not the time, Mariya.
But, damn, he looks badass in black cargo pants and a long-sleeve shirt.
Luca lets me clean his flesh wounds and bandage them. I didn’t even broach the topic of going to the hospital, knowing he wouldn’t stand for it.
Luca’s phone starts ringing. “It’s Viktor,” he tells me before taking the call.
Thank God.
We’ve been waiting for Viktor to track Pavlović, which he’s able to do now that the man has surfaced from his hiding place.
Coward. He doesn’t have the balls to come face to face with my husband.
Luca puts Viktor on speaker, so I can hear.
“I’ve tracked him from Amsterdam to Utrecht. The last footage I got of him was at a traffic light on Voort… fuck I can’t pronounce it. I’ll text you the name of the damn street.”
“Thanks,” Luca replies. “We’re hitting the road now. Let me know if you get new info on his whereabouts.”
“I can be there in ten hours if you want to wait for me.”
“No, I’m not giving him the chance to get away,” Luca snaps. “We’re ending this today.”
“And Mariya?” Viktor asks.
“I’m going with,” I answer.
“Kick ass, little sister,” he growls. “Empty your gun in the fucker for me.”
“I will,” I promise.
Ending the call, Luca and I take our luggage to our rented SUV, then go back to the suite to arm ourselves to the teeth.
Not giving an ounce of shit what the other guests in the hotel will think about the two of us carrying weapons and wearing armored vests, we leave the suite again.
“You look so hot,” I mutter as the elevator doors shut behind us.
Luca chuckles as the doors slide open on the third floor, and an elderly lady blinks at us before they shut again.
I let out a sigh, “We definitely won’t stay here again.”
“Yep,” Luca agrees.
The elevator doors open on the first floor, and we step out. People move out of the way, whispers following behind us.
Just like my parents, we’ll become the power couple to fear after taking care of Pavlović.
Once we’re in the SUV, Luca drives us to Utrecht, only twenty to thirty minutes away.
Viktor sends us an update.
Van Deventerlaan. The Express Holiday Inn.
I type out a quick reply.
Got it. Thanks.
When Luca stops at a red light, I show him the name of the street where Pavlović is. With the help of GPS, we find the motel and slowly drive past it.
“I can go to the reception and pretend I’m a whore. They might give me the asshole’s room number.”
“There’s no fucking way,” Luca growls.
“There are easily a hundred rooms in that building. How will we find out which one he’s staying in?”
“We’re going to wait and watch.”
