Semua Bab Fallen From Grace [Married to the Mafia Novel]: Bab 71 - Bab 80

“Maybe aren’t cut out for this after all. Flinching at the mere sight of blood, Miss?”   The remark catches me off-guard, but my eyes don’t leave the sight in front of me, standing on the other side of an interrogation room, much like what they have in police stations. However, instead of the usual blues and grays of police stations, this one has white walls on the mirrored side, save for the dried bloodstains on the floor and the walls, which I think is intentional, giving the occupants of the room a preview of what they can look forward to.   The white motif is followed on our side of the room, which reminds me of a hospital. The same mechanics work, we can see and hear everything going on inside, but those who are inside cannot.   Beltini returns to my side of the room wh

“That’s absurd. You can’t lead us.” I don’t stop the scoff that leaves my lips. What I’m asking for isn’t absurd, but the general reaction from Beltini is. But I won’t allow him to stop me. Standing up a little straighter, I fix every man in the room with a stern look, daring them to speak against me. Killian, Daveed, and Luca give me a small nod, a small gesture but a vow to follow my command. The rest of the room comprises Beltini’s men and some of Dante’s. It’s a bad mix, but I would have to make do. I can’t rescue Dante on my own, I would need their help. So, I need to win them over, one way or another. “And why the hell not? I feel li

Move. Fucking move! But my legs remain rooted to the floor. My eyes are fixated on Dante’s, wanting nothing more than to gut every person who hurt him. Seeing him hurt, makes me hurt so I want to hurt someone and everyone else. My feet begin to move then, running toward him only to be stopped by the two men in white lab coats. I struggle in their holds, screaming as I do so, calling for Dante over and over but he never looks at me, just keeps thrashing and screaming. And God,

Escaping that stronghold was a blur. I vaguely remember Daveed barking orders, telling our men to retreat. I remember hearing the gunshots. I remember stumbling forward but Luca was there to haul me back up on my feet. And I remember being shoved into the back of the SUV, with Dante beside me, thrashing in pain. His eyes were closed but I could tell he was conscious. “Keep the pressure here. Don’t let go.” Daveed instructs, pressing my palms harder against Dante’s wound. “We’re busting out of here. Try to stay low.” “H-He’s—Dante’s--” “Dante will be alright, Jean. Focus.”

“I’m coming for you, my sweet, Jean.” “You look so much like her… so much like your mother…” The voice filters into my head like hot lava, heavy and dreadful. It sears into my brain and invades all of my senses leaving me scratching at my head, my face, my ears, and even my eyes for any kind of reprieve from the pain. “You grew up to be so strong… so murderous.” No!