Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
“Who is she?” Esposito asks the room as Seamus orders restraints brought forward. He’s got her face down, a knee in her back, and a gun to her head. “And where is my sister?”
I shake my head. “Let me make a call.”
All eyes turn to me. Bridget’s still breathing heavily, tucked under my arm.
I take out my phone as the imposter squirms and fumes on the floor. Lorenzo is careful not to let her get up.
“FaceTime John Doe.” No one needs to know who my contact in Boston is. “Brother, keep your video off,” I tell him as he answers.
“What is it?”
“We have an impostor here pretending to be Valentina Esposito. We need you to identify her so we can find the real Valentina.”
“Of course,” he says. “Let me see her.”
“Let me help,” Bronwyn says as she walks over to Valentina, who's practically spitting fire at this point.
“Careful, bella,” Esposito says to Bronwyn. “Snake bites are venomous.” He pins Valentina down by the neck as Bronwyn reaches for her scalp and yanks off her wig.
Valentina screams in rage as long, thick black hair spills out onto her shoulders. Her vibrant blue eyes flash.
“Told you,” Bronwyn says to no one in particular before her voice goes hard. “Take out the contacts.”
Valentina glares.
Bronwyn shakes her head. “For fuck's sake. You know you have contacts in. Nobody’s eyes are that blue, bitch.”
“This one's easy, brother,” says the voice on the other end. “Will send you the name.”
“Thanks. I owe you a solid.”
He hangs up.
“Hand it over, Declan,” Esposito growls.
But no, I’m not giving this to him that easily. “Of course. But now that I don’t have your sister here, the terms of our agreement are sketchy. You promised us, before anything else happened, that you would give us intelligence that would free my cousin from prison. Tell me that now, and I will hand over the identity of your traitor.”
Lorenzo talks rapidly to his father in Italian. He nods, gestures, then pulls out a small thumb drive and tosses it to me.
Seamus pulls a laptop out of a bag, plugs it in, and his shoulders sag in relief.
Torin is coming home.
“Now,” Esposito says. “My sister’s location. Where is she?”
“We need to discuss our terms,” Seamus begins.
“We'll discuss the finer details of our terms later, McCarthy,” Esposito says. “I hope you understand that the priority for me is to find my sister.”
“Let me go,” the impostor fumes, but it's too late. Lorenzo has her by both arms and isn't being gentle about it.
“We have a holding room,” Seamus offers. “If you'd like to question her here.”
“Thank you for your hospitality.” Lorenzo's jaw is tight. “But she's coming with us.”
“You're not getting anything out of me,” the impostor says. Her voice has gone flat and cold, different from the rage of a moment ago. More decided. “And you're all going to pay for this.”
Lorenzo yanks her forward, and that's when he stops—his hand closing on something beneath her jacket that isn't fabric. He goes absolutely still for one half second that stretches like a held breath, and then he moves.
“Fuori! Out! Get out!” he shouts, ripping the device free in one motion. No hesitation. No calculation. He turns and hurls it through the doorway into the corridor beyond.
The blast takes the hallway.
The pressure wave hits the room like a wall. I’m already moving toward Bridget when the floor comes up to meet us both. Glass. Plaster. The ringing starts immediately, that high, hollow sound that means your ears have stopped working properly. Somewhere behind me, something heavy falls.
Then… silence.
When I lift my head, Lorenzo Esposito is already on his feet, bleeding from somewhere above his eye, and the imposter’s prone on the ground.
Bridget.
Chapter Thirty-Three
BRIDGET
“Bridget!”
The sounds of more gunshots, screams, and flesh hitting flesh meet my ears. An alarm goes off, ringing into the darkness. I've been hit somewhere. My leg hurts. Where's Declan?
Then Declan's beside me, holding my hand. I'm dizzy and confused. “Where am I?”
“On the floor, love,” he says. “You'll be fine. You just fell.”
“And what's that—what's that noise?”
“Seamus has sounded the family alarm. He's calling in everyone.”
“Is anybody hurt?” I say, even as my stomach is caving in.
“Don’t know yet. Came straight to you.”
I feel nauseous. My head and both feet hurt. It’s too much—the whole of it, right there in the middle of the McCarthy family living room.
The baby.
“Medics!”
“Here!” Declan shouts. “In here!”
Why won’t the ringing in my ears stop?
They arrive in uniforms, with stretchers and medical supplies.
“Are you hurt?”
“She fell,” Declan says. “There was a bomb. And she’s—she’s pregnant.”
“Right, then. We’ll get her seen immediately.”
There’s no going back now. Everyone could’ve heard. I close my eyes, thankful I wasn’t shot but eager to see if all is well with the baby. If after all this time and everything we’ve been through…