Submitting To The Devil - The Devil's Snare - Book 2

Chapter Fifty Two

Niko

I knew the moment I decided to go back into the other room that my life might be waiting for the end of the fuse to create the explosion, but I needed to give Sven a pause that he could exploit.

So I did it, knowing my farewell with Bianca might be lacklustre, to say the least, but knowing that the days leading up to my demise were filled with the only acceptable form of showing one that you love her.

I moved with quiet precision, knowing the only way this would work was by putting myself in dangers way by standing directly behind the entry door of the room whilst it acted as a shield where I could talk to Densel and see his reactions, but he could not see mine—knowing full well that I was closing in and aiming through the door at his chest, wanting to kill him for daring to threaten Bianca's life. He was standing there right before me on the opposite side of the door and hall, unbeknownst to him, his back against the wall opposite the only thing dividing us with no apparent protection as he stared at the door that separated us. His protection was there; I knew they were. Why wouldn't they be? But he left himself open, mistake number one, a small victory for me.

I had one opportunity to hit him before I had to run for cover from the onslaught of his surprised defence, and I was damned well going to take the shots.

Assessing him, I weighed up just where I should shoot him. His heart was my first choice, and between his eyes, the second, but that was more tricky considering he was taller than I, and I had to weigh up the speed of the bullet and the ease with which to take the shot with as much precision as possible. The door posed a risk, its wood slowing down my bullets, the peephole not giving me the exact place he truly stood. No shot would be a clean shot. But just as he moved, I noted the familiar telltale sign of a black vest below his open shirt; a bulletproof vest that proved shooting his heart would lack the outcome I wanted, no that I needed. I think that's why my mind instantly moved the gun for me, aiming for his jugular despite it not being as clear a shot as I had hoped with his heart would have proved. It only takes me a second of his time to realign my bullet with his jugular. A shot I'd have to take and never know the outcome until it was too late to revel in the victory. It was risky, but it seemed that was my only option with a probable outcome.

"She was never Moretta's to give to you. She knows that, he knew that. You're starting an all-out war over pussy, boy," he told me with a relaxed smile as he stared down at the gun that was directly pointed at my stomach, unbeknownst to him. That was his upper hand, unfortunately. Where he had protection in the form of men, firepower and a safety vest, I had two guns and no protection for my fleshy parts, especially not my heart, head or jugular.

Yet I had two seconds to make a choice, two seconds that could give us a few minutes of salvation to escape to safety in the alley could provide and I was damn well going to chase that reality even if that meant Sven was the only one to get out of this alive with Bianca.

My death was inevitable in my line of work, and I had to be okay with that even if that untimely manner hit me today.

"Come on, Densel. We all know touching one's wife is against the very grain of being in the mafia. The papers are signed, her name changed, and our marriage is well and truly consummated. She belongs to me now."

The words burn my throat, and a lack of endearment is laced within my words, but they are for Densel and not Bianca, and that's my typical ammo. I've never let emotions rule me, and right now, that's an imperative rule I need to obtain if I want to keep just how dear Bianca has come to me.

He chuckled dryly, the humour evident on his face, his head tipped back on the wall, which was my two seconds: one shot, two shots and three. The internal door swings open behind me just as I had hoped; my secret safe word is that of the shots of my gun. I empty the remaining three bullets unthinkingly as I race backwards, not having a clue whether he's still standing or has fallen down with one of my shots. I just picture him behind that door in my mind and shoot off memory.

Return fires begin to enter the room from the door, a blinding fire of red, oranges and flying wood as I stumble backwards after a bullet breezes past my face. One fraction of an inch, and that would have been my eye, and it's then I know I must run, so I do.

Glass shatters as I race across the room to the internal door. I fling myself forward, crashing through to the floor as I skid inside the adjoining room. I kick back, ensuring the door closes, and I race to lock it, leaving the key inside the lock.

And then I'm running towards the balcony door without thought as I race to exit the building. Shots are being fired at Bianca, which makes me falter for all but three seconds before I fling myself over the balcony wall and onto the fire stairs beside it.

I slip, tumbling on the landing as I duck from a fire shot from my six, and I start to race down the stairs like a spider crawling the floor, knowing the sniper is following me.

Bianca and Sven are just below me, falling the last few feet to the alley floor. They're protected by large infrastructures that protrude from the hotel, giving them space to hide, and I'm almost there with them as splicing pain shoots through my shoulder. I'm pushed back with force. The air winded out of me as I forgot to breathe through the pain. I'm not a virgin to being shot, but this is a different type of fucking bullet.

That fucker shot to kill and was nearly successful in striking me right through my heart.

Ignoring the pain and the wet, warm feeling spreading through my shoulder, I run towards Sven, who's just picking up the drain cover he revealed was loose, not but ten or so minutes ago before I chose to be the self-sacrificing husband.

"You're here," Bianca grinned, but her happiness soon faded as she lurched forward, her hand pulling my t-shirt away from my chest as she revealed her hiding spot that I pushed her back into. "You're hit."

"Down," Sven demands, pulling her away from me a little more forcibly than I'd like before encouraging her to go into the hole where a brittle metal ladder is attached just below the drain lid. "You next," he looks at me with a grimace.