“Where is Frank?” Kristina asks.
“He has her.” Sofia’s eyes overflow, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Quinn was able to take out most of the guys but my uncle…” She shakes her head, grabbing my hands. “He’s fucking insane. You have to save her!”
I look at Kristina. “Stay here with Sofia.”
“Fuck that!” She jumps up, the gun in her hand. “I’m coming with you. She’s my sister!”
“No, Kristi, please,” Sofia pleads with her. “It’s too dangerous. Massimo will take care of her.”
But Kristina is already running for the door, the gun in her outstretched hand.
Maria’s cries get louder and louder.
“Mas, any fucking day now!” Quinn shouts from inside the office.
I push Kristina aside and kick in the door. The lock is old and breaks easily enough, the door swinging open.
Quinn has his gun pointed straight at Frank who has his arm wrapped tight around Maria’s midsection.
His insurance.
“Uncle Frank,” Kristina says in a calm voice that in no way matches her panicked expression, walks into the room. “What the hell is happening here?”
He lets out a dry chuckle, flipping through pages of file folders. The desk drawer is open and so it seems is the hidden bottom. “You really have no idea, do you? You think you knew your father, but you didn’t at all. He was a lying, cheating bastard.”
“What are you talking about?” she presses, stepping closer still.
Maria’s eyes pop open wide, her chest heaving as she digs her nails into Frank’s hand. I exchange a look with Quinn.
“He ran in here with her before I could squeeze off a shot,” he mutters. “And he’s kept her plastered to him the entire time he’s been in here looking for Christ only knows what.”
“Did you know he fired me?” Frank seethes, his focus on Kristina. “He cut me off completely. All because I messed up one fucking time. So I skimmed a little here and there from the club. Screwed around with the dancers. Dealt some drugs. Big fucking deal. I needed a break, and he threw me out on my ass. Humiliated me. I hated him. He always kept me on the outside, throwing me crumbs while he feasted on life!”
I slide in front of Quinn, giving him a nod to escape. He slithers out of the office while Frank continues with his tirade.
“I vowed to pop his perfect bubble of a life. To make him feel the kind of pain I did. To suffer like me. And now that I finally have my chance to steal the rest away…” A deep red color floods Frank’s cheeks and he lets out a guttural roar, sweeping the file folders onto the floor in a rage. “Nothing can stop me. Fire and Ice is going to be mine.” He rakes a hand through his hair, a menacing smirk lifting his lips. “Your father may have cut me off, but I have a plan to get it all back.”
He presses the barrel of the gun against Maria’s temple. “And I’m taking everything.”
“Just leave her alone!” Kristina screams. “I’ll give you whatever money you want!”
“I don’t want money, Kristina,” he growls. “I want the syndicate seat. I want the fucking empire. And I’ll have it all as soon as you and your sisters are out of the way.”
Kristina’s eyes tangle with mine, desperation lacing her tormented gaze. “I’ll give you the seat,” she croaks.
“Savio won’t let it happen, that fucker. This is the only way for me to take over and to rule. Once I inherit the seat, he won’t be able to stop me. Nobody will!” he bellows.
“You’re not gonna kill them, Frank,” I say in an even voice, walking toward him.
“Don’t tell me what I’m going to do, you little prick. Some bodyguard you are. You couldn’t stop me before, and you’re not gonna be able to stop me now.”
“Oh, I guarantee someone will,” I say, raising my hand with the gun, the reflection in the glass telling me it’s almost time to prove Frank dead wrong.
A sudden blast fractures the window behind Frank, startling him enough to drop the gun from Maria’s temple and twist around, still clutching her against his chest. I fire two shots to Frank’s head, making his body buckle and crumble to the floor in a bloody heap. His arms go slack and Maria slips out from under his girth before he crashes on top of her.
“Kristina!” Sofia shouts a few seconds before another gunshot slices through the air outside of the office.
“Get the fuck away from her,” Quinn yells.
I run out of the office just in time to see Quinn run back into the conservatory and leap in front of Sofia, a bullet grazing his arm as he lands on top of her still body.
I plug the last surviving member of Frank’s crew with the rest of my bullets, his body jerking left and right as they tear through his flesh, extinguishing his pathetic excuse for a life.
Quinn leans his ear against Sofia’s chest and Kristina drops down next to him, examining the wound.
“I got a heartbeat,” he grunts.
“Thank God,” Kristina mutters. “We need to get her to the emergency room now. The bullet hit her shoulder and there’s an exit wound, which is good. But she has to be checked for any internal damage. The shoulder contains the subclavian artery, which feeds the brachial artery as well as the brachial plexus, the large nerve bundle that controls arm function. I’ll be right back.” She runs into the bathroom and comes back a few seconds later with a wet washcloth, pressing it against Sofia’s wound.
“You okay?” I ask Quinn, checking out his arm.
“Yeah,” he says, pulling away with a wince. “It just winged me.”
“You’re a hero,” Kristina says to him with a small smile. “I had my doubts, but you really redeemed yourself.”
Quinn smirks, giving me a punch with his good shoulder. “I couldn’t let this guy have all the glory.”
I back away, my eyes navigating back toward the office.
Fire and Ice.
Something tells me that’s the answer.
The only thing is, I still don’t know the right question.
Chapter Thirty-Four
KRISTINA
“Well, your diagnosis was almost spot-on,” Dr. Anderson, the emergency surgeon, says as his eyes scan Sofia’s chart. He looks at her, his lips curling into a smile. “You’re a very lucky lady.”
“I don’t feel so lucky,” she rasps, wincing as she shifts on the bed. “I’m in a lot of freaking pain right now.” She looks up at me, dark circles staining the skin beneath her eyes. “I hope that piece of shit uncle of ours burns in hell.”
“Same,” I whisper.
“The police are waiting outside, waiting for your statement.” Dr. Anderson nods his head toward the door. “Protocol. Anytime we have a gunshot victim, the authorities are contacted.”
I nod. “I’ll speak to them.”
“I’ll leave you. We’ll be taking Sofia in for surgery in a few minutes. The nurses will be in to prep her soon.”
“Are you sure she’s going to be okay?” Maria asks in a tearful voice. She hasn’t left Sofia’s side, nor has she let go of her hand.