Page 187 of Taming Seraphine
“You don’t get it. The only way Samson will call off that hit on you is if we give back Seraphine. Then we can get on with our lives and no one else will blow up the apartment.”
“Are you really that dense?” I growl. “Let. Her. Go.”
Miko flinches, his features hardening. “You’ve been obsessed with her from the beginning. Can’t you see she’s crazy? Now, you’ve shot Samson because you don’t want anyone to know?—”
Seraphine stabs him in the groin with a metal object, just as I shoot him between the eyes. Whatever Miko was about to reveal about Seraphine dies with his last breath.
Time stills as he falls to the floor. A kaleidoscope of memories assault my mind at once, starting with the moment a skinny and broken kid walked in on me while I was killing his stepfather.
A fist of emotion punches through my ribcage and seizes my heart, squeezing so tightly that I can’t breathe. Miko was supposed to be the one whose hands I kept clean. He was supposed to have a better life than the one he escaped when I took him from his addict mother.
And I killed him without hesitation.
My gaze drops to Seraphine, whose face looks even paler with her new dye job. Her figure appears even more frail when she’s wearing men’s clothes.
The fist around my heart releases, and I exhale. I would kill every motherfucker a hundred times if it meant keeping Seraphine safe. She is everything.
“Hey.” Roman’s voice cuts through the blood roaring between my ears. “Isn’t that the boy you adopted?”
“He tried to make a truce with Capello.” I rush forward to unbuckle Seraphine’s restraints.
That’s not the reason why I killed Miko. He was about to reveal to my cousin that Seraphine Uncle Enzo. Roman would shoot Seraphine without a moment’s hesitation, and I would have to shoot Roman. Even if she survived, Roman, Cesare, Benito, and every man loyal to the Montesano brothers wouldn’t stop hunting us until we were dead.
Roman hesitates behind me for several heartbeats too long, making the fine hairs on the back of my head stand on end. Before I can work out how the hell I’m going to deal with my cousin’s suspicions, he clears his throat.
“While I scout the rest of the house for survivors, make sure that Capello bastard dies,” Roman says as he jogs out of the room and down a flight of stairs.
I’m about to answer when I’m distracted by the press of cold steel on my neck.
Seraphine is holding the scalpel to my throat.
SEVENTY-FOUR
SERAPHINE
My breath comes in shallow pants and I dart my gaze from side to side, trying to figure out what the hell just happened. Leroi shot Miko. Why?
I quiet my mind long enough to hear Leroi explain his reasons to Roman Montesano. Maybe Leroi wasn’t working with Samson, but he must have taken me out of the basement on the orders of Anton.
My jaw clenches.
Dad only paid Anton for six months of training, after that, the twins became my handlers. After Dad dismissed Anton from training me, Anton must have worked out a way to break through the basement’s security. He couldn’t extract me himself because he knew I wouldn’t leave with him.
That’s why Anton chose a fresh face. A handsome face. A face I would find appealing.
Roman leaves, and Leroi begins to unfasten the straps of the operating table with urgent movements, his breathing harsh and labored. Now that he’s trained me to accept sexual pleasure, he’s anxious to deliver me to his father figure.
My heart pounds so hard that the bones of my ribcage tremble. I only have one chance of freedom, and I won’t let it go to waste.
The moment he leans close enough to unbuckle the restraint around my neck, I grab hold of his lapel and press the scalpel to his throat.
“Seraphine.” Leroi hisses through his teeth.
“Don’t move,” I say.
He raises both palms.
I ease myself up and slide the blade of the scalpel toward the thick vein running down the side of his neck. Leroi’s breathing quickens, but he makes no move to escape.