Chapter 8
The armored SUV roared to life, its massive engine drowning out the staccato rhythm of the gunfire outside. The driver threw the vehicle into reverse, executing a violent, spinning turn that sent gravel flying across the bright, sunlit cemetery grass.
"Are the escort vehicles following our trajectory?" Conrad asked, bracing himself against the front seat as the SUV slammed forward, accelerating violently toward the wrought-iron gates.
"Yes, Boss! We have two vehicles covering our rear, returning suppressing fire!" the driver shouted, his American accent thick with adrenaline.
Nina remained curled on the floorboards, holding Molly so tightly her arms ached. The little girl was sobbing hysterically into the fabric of Nina’s black dress. The sounds of bullets pinging against the heavy armor plating of the SUV sounded like a deadly hailstorm.
Conrad reached down into the floorboard. His large, tattooed hand gently gripped the back of Nina’s neck, a profoundly intimate and reassuring gesture amidst the terrifying chaos.
"Are you both keeping your heads down?" Conrad asked, his deep voice remarkably steady, offering a bizarrely calming anchor in the storm.
"We are down," Nina gasped, her fair, rosy cheeks pale with fear. She looked up at him, mesmerized by the absolute, freezing calm in his perceptive eyes. He did not look like a man running for his life; he looked like a predator calculating the exact cost of his retaliation.
The SUV burst through the cemetery gates, tearing onto the rural highway. The pursuit did not end. Two dark sedans roared out of a side road, swerving wildly to fall in behind the mafia convoy.
"Do they truly believe they can outrun an armored V8 engine?" Conrad asked, his angular jawline tightening. He rolled down the heavy, bulletproof window just a fraction of an inch—enough to slide the barrel of his handgun through the gap.
The deafening roar of the wind filled the cabin. Conrad aimed with cold, mechanical precision.
"Will you cover her ears, Nina?" Conrad asked, not taking his eyes off the pursuing vehicles.
Nina clamped her hands tightly over Molly’s ears and buried her own face into the child's shoulder.
Conrad fired twice.
The front tire of the lead pursuing sedan exploded in a violent burst of rubber and sparks. The car instantly lost control, swerving violently across the highway before flipping end-over-end, crashing into a deep ditch in a spectacular cloud of dust and twisted metal. The second sedan slammed its brakes to avoid the wreckage, effectively ending the pursuit.
Conrad smoothly pulled his weapon back inside, clicking the safety on, and rolled the heavy window back up. The sudden, muffled quiet inside the cabin was jarring.
He looked down at the floorboard. "Is the danger behind us for now?" he asked, extending his hand to help Nina up.
Nina slowly pulled herself onto the leather seat, lifting Molly onto her lap. She was trembling uncontrollably, the adrenaline finally crashing through her system.
"You killed them," Nina whispered, her wide, expressive eyes staring at the movie-star handsome man sitting beside her.
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"Did they not intend to kill the woman holding my daughter?" Conrad asked, his voice a low, lethal purr. He reached out, his thumb gently wiping a smear of dirt from Nina’s delicate cheekbone. "Do you think I would allow anyone to harm what is mine?"
Nina’s breath caught in her throat. The implication of his words—what is mine—hung in the air between them, transforming the dynamic from protector and maid to something entirely different.
